2nd COPY, 




LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

Chap. Copyright No. 

Shelf_.*-Cr-/<^ 



UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 





^CCC^iL^ 




Poems and Songs 



By 



James Gowdy Clark 



%. 



"Ohl for the touch of a. vanished ha.nd, 
And the sound of a. voice that is still. ' 



%, 



COLUMBUS, OHIO 

PRESS OF CHAMPLIN PRINTING CO 

MDCCCXCVIII 



l\tOV .^v ib9B 



Copyright 1898, 

By Jennie Clark Jacobson, 

St. Anthony Park, Minn. 



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LC Control Number 




bVs^'^Vo 



2007 



530144 



Poems and Songs 



To My Daughter 

JENNIE CLARK JACOBSON 

St Paul, Minn. 



CONTENTS 

Early Poems and War Period 

The Mountains of Life 29 

Leona <^0 

November 33 

To My Mother's Spirit 35 

My Mother is Near 3(i 

The Bird of Washington 37 

Ocean Musings 38 

Outcast 39 

The Wood Robin 40 

Scotland, I Love Thee 43 

I Look for Thee 43 

Sweet Ruth 44 

Art Thou Living Yet? 45 

The Beautiful Years of Our Love 47 

Flowers are Dying 49 

Star of the North 50 

A Prophecy 51 

Freemont's Battle Hymn 52 

Freedom's Dead 55 

The Children of the Battle-field 56 

Minnie Minton 5S 

Sought But Never Found 60 

When You and I were Soldier Boys 61 

America and Ireland 63 

The Rover's Grave 64 

The Rock of Liberty 65 



Contents 



The Boatman's Dream 


66 


The Old Mountain Tree 


71 


The Exile's Return 


72 


Joys of My Childhood 


73 


Oh ! Take Me from the Festal Throng 


74 


Moonlight and Starlight 


75 


Oreanna 


76 


We Cannot Give Thee Up 


77 


The Captive 


78 


Song of the Indian Mother 


79 


Moonlight Hours 


81 


Harry O'Lane 


82 


'Tis Sweet to be Remembered 


83 


Meet Me by the Running Brook 


84 


Let Us Love While We May 


85 


Marion Moore 


86 


Beautiful Annie 


87 


The Dawn of Redemption 


88 


The Beautiful Hills 


89 


Prophet of Nazareth 


91 


The Guardian Angel 


92 


Look Up 


93 


Where the Roses Never Wither 


94 


The Isles of the By and By 


95 



to 



Contents 

Written After His Fiftieth Birthday 

Lord, Keep My Memory Green 99 

Dawn 100 

The East and the West 101 ^^ 

Going Home 102 

.The Picture 104 

Night on the Prairie 105 V' 

The Mount of the Holy Cross 106 

The Silver Pilgrim 109 

Retrospection 112 

i/The Woman and the Angel 114 

I Care Not for this World Without Thee IIG 

By the Borders of the Sea 117 

Our Dream by the River 118 

Children's Day 119 

The Captain's Signal 120 

The Golden Dream 121 

Completeness 123 

Love's ]\Iorning Call 124 

June Days 126 

To Dr. James C. Jackson 127 

Two Conquerors 128 

My Prayer 130 

The Infinite Mother 131 

Love's Immortality 134 

Our Love Shall Never Die 136 



11 



Contents 

Venus 137 

A Fragment 138 

The Woman in the Moon 139 

On the Beach 140 

The Voice of the People 141 

The Martyr of Truth 144 

A Song for the Period 147 

A Vision of the Old and New 149 

The North Star 153 

Sleep, Robin, Sleep 154 

Missing 155 

The Voice of the Mountains 156 

Two Lives 158 

I Will Be With You 161 

The Mocking Bird of Saticoy 162 

Turn to Me Thou Lonely One 165 

Let Me Rest 166 

Star of My Soul 167 



12 



Contents 

After Sixty Years 

The People's Battle Hymn IVl 
Justice to "Liberty Enlightening the World" 173 

A Fragment 179 

Freedom's Reveille 180 

The Fall of New Babylon 183 

Fraternity 185 

Old Glory 186 

Our Babylon 188 

Dawn on Mount Lowe 189 v-' 

"All for One and One for All" 191 

The Inner Voice 193 

The Old Age Dies 193 

The Living Christ 197 

Message of Mount Lowe 199 ■ 

Santa Catalina 202 

A Voice in the Night 204 

A Vision of Lost Atlantis 206 

The City of the Clouds 210 i- 

The World of Trade 212 

Jamie's Lullaby Song 213 

Eternal Youth 214 

The Sunny Side of Seventy 215 

Mayata 217 

A Tranquil Mind 218 

A Fragment 219 



13 



Contents 

At Last ^20 

To My First Born 231 

Good Night and Good Morning 322 

The Last Song 333 



14 



PREFACE 

In giving- to the world this new and complete edi- 
tion of my father's poems, I wish to thank the friends 
whose messages and deeds of kindness did much to 
cheer and convince him that he had not labored and 
sung in vain. 

Especially do I wish to express my gratitude to 
Mr. and Mrs. C. T. Havens for their care and devotion 
when failing health compelled him to leave those 
nearest and dearest for a more kindly climate. From 
their home in Southern California he sent out much 
of his best and truest work, and there, in sight of his 
beloved mountains, he sang his last song. 

Jennie Clark Jacobson. 



15 



INTRODUCTION 

James G. Clark belonged to the noble choir of peo- 
ple's poets of which Gerald Massey, Charles Mackay 
and William Morris are the most illustrious members 
on the other side of the water; he may be justly 
termed "America's Laureate of Labor," for no poet 
in the New World has written so many highly merit- 
orious poems in behalf of the toilers, nor has any 
singer expressed more beautifully or truthfully the 
highest aspirations of the new social revolution which 
is stirring the hearts of millions of men and women 
as has this simple, earnest and spiritually minded 
prophet of a better day. 

Mr. Clark descended from sturdy Puritan stock, 
and in his life of consecration to duty, we see the shad- 
owing forth again of a spirit which characterized 
more than one of his ancestors. 

William Clark, the first of the family to settle in 
the New World, came to Dorchester from England 
in 1630, and thirty-one years later he, with seven 
friends organized the first church in Northampton, 
Mass., over which Eleazor Mather was ordained min- 
ister. 

Mr. Clark raised and commanded a company in 
several Indian wars ; served for ten years as judge of 
the county court, and was for fourteen years a mem- 
ber of the general court. 

From this able, just and courageous Puritan, Mr. 
Clark was descended on his father's side. His ma- 

17 



Introduction 

tcrnal grandfather, Rev. James Gowdy, was an influ- 
ential Universalist minister, whose conspicuous cour- 
age in defending the weak and the wrgnged, his 
tender love for the oppressed and liis splendid inde- 
pendence of thought and action seem to have blos- 
somed afresh in his grandson, affording another illus- 
tration of the transmission of strong moral character- 
istics from generation to generation. 

The poet was born in Constantia, New York, in 
1830. His mother was a woman of deep feeling and 
highly refined ; the exalted si)irituality which marked 
the life of Mr. Clark from dawn to dusk, seems to 
have come very largely from the noble-souled mother 
who shared so fully the hopes and aspirations of her 
son. At an early age the ])oet (lis])layed fnic musical 
talent anil no little poetical alMlity ; his mother encour- 
aged, stinudatcd and guided the l)oy, always empha- 
sizing the highest ideals and seeking to develop his 
spiritual nature. ]?y the time he liad arrived at his 
majority, he had won no small degree of popular 
favor through his songs, the words and nuisic of 
which he comptvsed. lie also sang most acceptably 
in public. 

At the request of his mother, for whom he ever 
cherished the deepest love, he composed "The Ever- 
Green Mountains of T.ife," a song which, in cluu-ch, 
home and sciuxil, has been snn<2- for nearly forty 



18 



Inirodudion 

years, and whose popularity has in no way dimin- 
ished. 

In later years the poet's religious sentiments deep- 
ened and broadened. Heaven became more near, 
more real and tangible than when he had sung : 

"Our gaze cannot soar to that beautiful land, 
But our visions have told of its bliss. 
And our souls by the gales of its gardens are fanned 
When we faint in the desert of this." 

At the time when the cloud of civil war was loom- 
ing up big and dark along our political horizon, and 
the passions and hopes of a great nation were ren- 
dering life oppressive and making suspense terrible 
for sensitive natures, the young poet was summoned 
to the deathbed of his mother. While listening to 
her loving admonitions theie came to him the words 
of his most beautiful lyric, "Leona." This poem 
was published in the New York Home Journal, then 
under the able editorial management of N. P. Willis 
and George Morris, and was more widely copied 
than any other poem published by that periodical. 

Mr. Clark's literary life may be divided in three 
parts: ('l)the lyric poet and popular song writer; (3) 
the poet of freedom ; and (?j) the laureate of labor. 
Leona marks the close of the first period. The war 
was now at hand ; the union of the states and the sla- 
very issues were on the lips and in the hearts of every 
one; something of the beauty and brightness of the 

19 



Introduction 

old home had gone out of life which now appeared 
more stern and august than ever before. 

He felt as he had never felt the personal responsi- 
bility which devolved upon him. Great issues involv- 
ing the happiness of millions were up for settlement. 
He was no longer justified in remaining the "idle 
singer of an empty day." Nay more; even poems 
which at certain times would have been appropriate 
must now give place to the great cause which he felt 
demanded his best work. 

He composed songs which he set to music and sang 
to vast multitudes in Northern towns. His "Free- 
dom's Battle Hymn" was second only in popularity 
to Mrs. Julia Ward Howe's "Battle Hymn of the 
Republic." In the interest of the Sanitary Commis- 
sion and the Soldier's Aid Society he visited city after 
city, electrifying the people as stirring song and music 
only can arouse and enthuse the awakened imagina- 
tion. He became a very real factor in the cause of 
the Union, and his war poems ceased to be on the 
lips of the multitude only after the flags were furled. 

The war closed, but the poet had come to under- 
stand that the human caravan could not rest; that 
civilization must advance or retrograde. A higher 
vantage-ground revealed nobler heights to be at- 
tained which had not been visible on the lower emi- 
nence. He refused to rest on the greensward by the 
wayside or to become a dreamer. For him new occa- 
20 



Introdudion 

sions taught new duties. He beheld the misery of the 
milHons who to him were brothers and sisters. He 
felt that God had given to him a voice with which to 
speak for the voiceless and burdened ones. He be- 
came the prophet, champion and friend of the toilers, 
throwing into their cause the same poetic fervor that 
had inspired Gerald IMassey and Charles Mackay 
during the Corn Law agitation, and William Morris 
in behalf of the burdened wage-earners during the 
later years of his life. Throughout the past two de- 
cades Mr. Clark has written more really excellent 
poems of progress and songs of the people than any 
other poet in America since the war of the rebellion. 

Mr. Clark was married while still a young man. 
Two children, a son and a daughter — James G. Clark, 
Jr., and Jennie (now Mrs. J. C. Jacobson) — came to 
bless his life, and in truth they proved a blessing ; 
their steadfast love and sympathy were ever his ; the 
relationship between the poet and his children was 
always very tender and beautiful. In several per- 
sonal letters penned to me during the past six years, 
he has referred most touchingly to his children, and 
especially to his daughter, Jennie Clark Jacobson. 
How fully this love and sympathy was reciprocated 
by his daughter is seen in the following extract from 
a personal letter received after her father had passed 
into the great Beyond : "He was the most loving 



21 



Introduction 

father and the truest friend a daughter ever had." It 
would be difficult to conceive of a nobler tribute from 
the lips of child than that. 

Of Mr. Clark's poems, it is needless to speak at 
length, for they are present and need no words of 
praise; they will live, for they hold the potency of 
Truth, clothed in beautiful and expressive verbiage ; 
they reveal deep spiritual insight, and at times are 
profoundly philosophical. This is notably true of that 
wonderful poem which recognizes the mother princi- 
ple in life and which begins, 

" I am Mother of Ivife and companion of God." 

His songs of the people will grow dearer and dearer 
as the years roll by, until 

"The King is slain in Babylon 
And the captive hosts go free." 

I now come to notice Mr. Clark's religious views. 
I have seldom known a more Christlike life than his. 
His heart was so like the great Nazarene's in its deep 
love and sympathy for all the world, and especially 
for the sufifering, the wronged and the sorrowing, that 
it often oppressed his great soul and not unfrequently 
tinged his songs with sadness. He gladly gave his 
life's richest treasures for the suffering and oppressed. 
In early life, with popularity and lucrative positions 
before him, he heard the august voice of Duty, and 
he unhesitatingly followed. Upwards along the 

22 



Introduction 

stony and thorn-strewn path of the reformer and 
the champion of justice, he pursued his way. The 
snow of age whitened his hrow, he faltered not; he 
had ascended the spiritual Alps and the nearer he 
came to the end, the clearer his vision, the sweeter 
his songs, and nobler his ideals. Why? Because he 
had lived the Christ-life as well as preached it. He 
discusses at length, questions of religion and life in 
many interesting personal letters, for I held him 
among my dearest friends, but he was rather back- 
ward about expressing his religious views in public, 
merely because he disliked profitless debates, which 
so often aroused angry passions and so seldom ac- 
complished good. During his last illness, when the 
light of the eternal day was breaking for him, he dic- 
tated the following which may be considered as his 
confession of faith : 

"1 do believe firmly in Jesus of Nazareth as repre- 
sented by the early Christians, to be the great ideal 
man of this planet, upon whose ideals of justice and 
love, human society and government, to be permanent 
and peaceable, must be reconstructed and re-estab- 
lished. I Ijelievc that He has power to regenerate 
human beings, so far as they permit the vital es- 
sence of His life to flow into theirs, and that thus, in 
the great essential sense, is the highest and most 
loving life of which we have record ; He is under the 



23 



Introdudion 

Infinite love, the natural Redeemer of the race. Fur- 
thermore, I believe in the inter-communication be- 
tween the two worlds, under conditions, however, that 
need to be carefully considered and understood, and 
I believe that these things will grow plainer as the 
race becomes more spiritualized — until they become 
a basis for a common religion, with the Son of Man 
as the vitalizing and controlling essence of the whole. 

"As regards Christ's personality, I wish to say that, 
in the contemplation of His character and life, I have 
derived what has been the best and most comforting 
and inspiring experiences of my existence." 

Mr. Clark never doubted the love of God or the 
final triumph of Right. He believed that a new social 
order was at hand ; a social democracy based on the 
fatherhood of God and the brotherhood of man. His 
exalted faith buoyed him up in life's darkest hour; 
"I always know," he wrote in one of his letters, "that 
His banner over me is Love." The benumbing ma- 
terialism of our age had no influence on his soul ; he 
felt the presence of the Unseen ; he knew within his 
soul that death was the ante-room of a truer life. 

His closing years were crowded with noble works , 
in fact, they were his most fruitful years. The great 
cause of the industrial millions became his cause, and 
the singer of earlier days became at once prophet, 



24 



Introdudion 

poet and apostle of a juster, nobler and truer order. 
His best poems were composed in the last two de- 
cades of his stay with us. At a time in life when most 
men, even the noblest workers in God's vineyard, sink 
by the wayside to rest, he pressed forward with the 
soul of youth aflame with divine enthusiasm, sending 
message after message to cheer the burdened ones, 
while with the courage of an old-time prophet he 
cried out against oppression and injustice, iicfore 
his death, he beheld many bright visions of his loved 
ones on the other side who were waiting to welcome 
him to the larger life, and at times the veil was lifted 
and he caught glimpses of the beauty of the home of 
the soul of which he had so beautifully sung. A life 
like his is ever a strong inspiration to others ; his was 
one of the most deeply spiritual natures I have ever 
known, one of the most conscientious and lovable 
friends it has been my fortune to enjoy. He was one 
of nature's noblemen — a prophet, a poet and a man. 

B. O. Flower. 



35 



Early Poems and H^ar 
Period 



THE MOUNTAINS OF LIFE 

There's a land far away mid the stars, we are told, 
Where they know not the sorrows of time; 

Where the pure waters wander through valleys of 
gold. 
And life is a treasure sublime : 

'Tis the land of our God, 'tis the home of the soul, 

Where ages of splendor eternally roll, 

Where the way-weary traveler reaches his goal 
On the evergreen mountains of life. 

Our gaze cannot soar to that beautiful land, 

But our visions have told of its bliss ; 
And our souls by the gales from its gardens are 
fanned 

When we faint in the deserts of this ; 
And we sometimes have longed for its holy repose 
When our spirits were torn with temptations and 

woes, 
And we've drunk from the tide of the river that flows 

From the evergreen mountains of life. 

Oh ! the stars never tread the blue heavens at night 
But we think where the ransomed have trod ; 

And the day never smiles from his palace of light 
But we feel the bright smile of our God. 

We are traveling homeward, through changes and 
gloom, 

To a kingdom where pleasures unceasingly bloom, 

And our guide is the glory that shines through the 
tomb. 
From the evergreen mountains of life. 



29 



LEONA 

Leona, the hour draws nigh, — 
The hour we've ^waited so long, 
For the angel to open a door through the sky, 
That my spirit may break from its prison and try 
Its voice in an infinite song. 

Just now, as ihc shunbcrs of night 

Came o'er mo with peace-giving breath. 
The curtain half lifted, rcveaknl to my sight 
Those windows which look on the kingdom of light 
That borders the River of Death. 

And a vision fell solenui and sweet, 

J^ringing gleams of a morning-lit land ; 
I saw the white shore which the pale waters beat, 
And I heard the low lull as they broke at their feet 
Who walked on the beautiful strand. 

And I wondered why spirits should cling 
To their clay with a struggle and sigh. 
When life's purple autmun is better than spring, 
And the soul flics away like a sparrow, to sing 
In a climate where leaves never die. 

Leona, come close to my bed. 

And lay your dear hand on my brow; 
The same touch that blest me in days that are fled, 
And raised the lost n~)scs of youth from the dead. 
Can brighten the brief moments now. 

We have loved from the cold world apart ; 

And your trust was too generous and true 
For their hate to o'erthrow : when the slanderer's dart 
Was rankling deep in my desolate heart. 

T was dearer than ever to you. 

30 



Leona 

I thank the Great Father for this, 

Tliat our love is not lavished in vain; 
Each germ, in the future, will blossom to bliss, 
And the forms that we Ujvc, and the lips tliat we kiss. 
Never shrink at the shadow of pain. 

By the light of this faith am 1 taught 
That death is but action begun ; 
In the strength of this hope have I struggled and 

fought 
With the legions of wrong, till my armrjr has caught 
The gleam of Eternity's sun. 

Leona, look forth and behold! 

From headland, from hillside, and deep, 
The day king surrenders his banners of gold; 
The twilight advances through woodland and wold, 

And the dews are beginning to weep. 

The moon's silver hair lies uncurled, 

Down the broad-breasted mountains away ; 
Ere sunset's red glories again shall be furled 
On the walls of the west, o'er the plains of the world, 
I shall rise in a limitless day. 

Oh ! come not in tears to my tomb. 
Nor plant with frail flowers the sod : 
There is rest among roses too sweet for its gloom. 
And life where the lilies eternally bloom, 

Tn the balm-breathing gardens of God. 

Yet deeply those memories burn 

Which bind me to you and to earth; 
And I sometimes have thought that my being would 

yearn, 
In the bowers of its beautiful home, to return 
And visit the home of its birth. 

31 



Leona 

'IVonld even hi- pU-.isMiit to stay, 
And walk by yoiit sidi- to llii- last; 
Ihit (he laiid-brcczc of I leaven is bej^imiinj;' to play, 
Life's sliadows are meeting' I'Uernity's day, 
And its luiiiiilt is hushed in Ihi- past. 

Leona, ^ood by. Should the im irf 
'i'hat is }4aliitrinj^' now ever be- 
Too dark for yonr laith, yon will lonj; for relief;. 
And, reinend)er, I lie journey, though lonesome^ brief, 
Over lowland and river, to tne. 'ly 



as 



NO VliMBliR 

The red sun ^atlicis up his beams, 

'Jo bid llie withered earlh farewell, 
And voices from the swelhng streams 

Are mingling with tlie evening bell; 
The cold lake sobs with restless grief, 

Where late the water-lilies grew, 
While autLimn fowl, and aiitmnn leaf, 

Arc sailing down ihc rivers blue. 

Forsaken are the woodlanrl shrines. 

The bluebird and the wren have fled, 
And winds are wailing through tlie pines 

A dirge for summer's glorious dead; 
E'en man forsakes his daily strife, 

And nuises on the bright things flown, 
As if in Nature's changing life 

He saw the piclme of liis own, 

I often think at this sad hour. 

As evening weeps her earliest tear. 
And sunset gilds the naked bower, 

And waves are l>reaking cold and clear. 
Of that glad time, wliose memory dwells 

Like starlight <)\:r life's rlr>ndy weather, 
When side by side we roved the dells 

Of dear New England's coast together. 

'Twas on old I'lymoutli's rork-famed shore, 

One calm November night with tliee, 
I watched tlie long light trembling o'er 

The billows of the eastern sea; 
The weary day harf simk to r'-st 

Beyond the lines of leafless wood. 
And guardian clouds, from south to west. 

Arrayed in hues of crimson stood. 



.'53 



No'vember 

We climbed the hill of noble graves, 

Where the stern patriarchs of the land 
Seemed listening to the same grand waves 

That freed them from the oppressor's hand ; 
We talked of spirits pure and kind, 

With gentle forms and loving eyes, — 
Of happy homes we left behind, 

In vales beneath the western skies. 

A few brief days, — and when the earth 

Grew white around the traveler's feet, 
And bright fires blazed on every hearth, 

We parted never more to meet 
Until I go where thou art gone. 

From this dark world of death and blight. 
And walk with thee above the sun 

That sank upon thy grave to-night. 

I hear the muffled tramp of years 

Come stealing up the slope of Time ; 
They bear a train of smiles and tears, 

Of burning hopes and dreams sublime : 
But future years may never fling 

A treasure from their passmg hours, 
Like those that come on sleepless wing, 

From memory's golden plain of flowers. 

The morning breeze of long ago 

Sweeps o'er my brain with soft control, 
Fanning the embers to a glow 

Amidst the ashes round my soul ; 
And by the dim and flickering light 

I see thy beauteous form appear. 
Like one returned from wanderings bright. 

To bless my lonely moments here. 



34 



TO MY MOTHER'S SPIRIT 

Come to my weary heart, wand'ring from duty, 

Spirit that guarded my pathway in youth, 
Come in the beams of thy glorified beauty, 

Smile on a soul that is struggling for truth ; 
Thou hast been with me when pleasures were fleeing, 

Silv'ring the night-time of sorrow with love, 
Floating like light through the clouds of my being, — 

Come to me now from thy dwelling above. 

Come to my couch when the wide world reposes, 

Watch o'er the slumbers and visions of night, 
Rest on my hopes like the dew on the roses ; 

Bring all the budding ones forth to the light. 
True as the stars o'er the mountain storm playing, 

Faithful through trial, temptation, and pain, 
Thou hast been true when my spirit was straying. 

Come, and I never will grieve thee again. 



35 



MY MOTHER IS NEAR 

Sweet mother, the birds irom our bowers have fled, 

llie reaper iias gatliered his sheaves, 
The glorious suiiiiiier hes silent and dead, 

And the land like a pale mourner grieves ; 
But the garden ol mem'ry is blooming to-day 

With llovvers and leaves ever new. 
And the birds and the fountains around it that play 

Are singing, dear mother, of you. 

Like green shores receding beyond the blue seas 

Seem the years by your tenderness blest, 
And youth's merry music grows faint on the breeze 

That is wafting me on to life's west; 
Yet beautiful seems the mild glance of your eye, 

And the blessing your fond spirit gave, 
As the mists of the valley hang bright in the sky 

Though the mountains are lost in the wave, 

I wonder, sometimes, if the souls that have flown 

Return to the mourners again, 
And 1 ask for a sign from the trackless unknown 

Where millions have questioned in vain ; 
I see not your meek, loving face through the strife 

That would blind me witli doubting and fear, 
But a voice murmurs "Peace" to the tumult of life, 

And I know that my mother is near. 

The cold world may cover my patliway with frowns, 

And mingle with bitter each jov ; 
It may load me with crosses, and rob me of crowns, 

I have treasures it cannot destroy; 
There's a green, sunny isle in the depths of my soul 

WHiosc roses the winds never strew. 
And the billows and breezes around it that roll 

Bring tidings of heaven and you. 

36 



THE BIRD OF WASHINGTON 

When the winds are unchained o'er the plains of the 
world, 

And clouds burst their bonds on the hills, 
When the banner of storm o'er the deep is unfurled. 

And terror the human heart thrills, — 
'Tis then that I fly to my aerie on high, 
And gaze on the battle of billow and sky : 
I laugh in my glee while the elements rave, 
And they call me the bird of the Brave. 

When Liberty looks on the woes of the world 
Through clouds of oppression and crime, 

When tyrants and knaves from their high thrones are 
hurled, 
And men break the fetters of Time, — 

'Tis then that I rise on the death-rolling night. 

And strike for the brave in the battle of Right : 

I laugh as the legions of tyranny flee. 

And thev call me the bird of the Free. 



37 



OCEAN MUSINGS 

TuK sun Ikis hid his licry eye 

'Neath quiet evening's jewelled brow, 

And from her yellow easement in the sky 
The musing- moon is gazing now : 
The elear, soft glimmer of her erown 
Behind us paves the waters wide, 

While, from their distant walls, her guards look down 
To see their faees in the tide. 

A spell of tranquil glory hinds 

The bosom of the voieeless deep. 
And, gently dimpknl by the powerless winds, 

The ^\•aves in laughing lieauly sleep: 

And, basking 'neatii the dreamy smiles 

C^f mingled shade and misty light, 
Lie the dim summits of oiu- native isles, 

Reposing in the arms of niglil. 

Slowly om- bark, to realms more new. 

Moves on before the moving moon. 
While we look back to take our lingering view, 

Through night's mysterious summer noon. 

Of hapi\v seenes forever down, — 

Scenes which now bi\'mi from \'on loved shore, 
More bright than when we deemetj them all om- own, 

And time flew lightly, gavlv o'er. 

Thus, when the sun of 1 lope's bright day 
Sinks down behind Life's lonely main. 

Will the mild moon of memory lend her ray, 
Disclosing those fair scenes again. 
Where sleep the smiles of youth's lost dream: 
And manhood's eye with tears shall fill. 

To sec the waves of vanished glory gleam 
More hwely and enchanting still. 

38 



OUTCAST 

Alas for her who sits alone 

Beside the sepulchre of hope, 
With none to roll away the stone 

And bid the llowers that lined life's slope 
Return once more, and (ill the i^Idoui 
With sweeter life and fresher bloom : 
Better for her the voiceless tondj , 
Without a si^n to mark the spot 
Except the blue forg^et-me-not, 
That sits upon the lap of sprinp^ 
Before the robins come to sing, 

Or bluebirds i)ipe their flule-like tnncs; 
Before the icy chains are riven 

That fetter foimtain, lake, and river, 
And from the snows that chill the sod 
Looks up to greet the eye of ("lod, 

A pronn'sc of celestial Junes, 
When in the qm'ckcning light of Heaven 

Our dead shall live and bloom forever. 



39 



THE WOOD ROBIN 

IJow calmly the lin};ciiiig liglil 

iicauis back over woodland and plain, 
As an infant, ere closing ils eyelids at niidit, 

Looks back on its niotlu'r ap^ain. 

The wood robin sings at my door, 

And her song is the sweetest i hear 
From all the sweet birds (hat incessantly pour 

Their notes throngh the noon of the year. 

'Twas thns in my boyhood time, 

That season of emerald and gold, 
Vav (he storms and the shadows lliat fall on onr prime 

Had told me that pleasures grow old; 

I loved, in the warm summer eves. 

To recline on the welcoming sod, 
\\\ (he broail spreading temple of twilight and leaves, 

Where the wood robin \\H)rshipped her God. 

I knew not (hat life couUl endure 

The burden it beareth to-day, 
And I felt that my soul was as happy and pure 

As the tt>nes of (lu> wood robin's lay. 

Oh beaudful, l)eau(iful youth, 

"With its visions of hope and love, 
How cruel is life to reveal ns the truth, 

That peace only liveth above ! 

The wood \oh\\\ trills the same tune 

l-'rom her thicket in garden and glen; 
And the landscajie and sky, and the twilight of June, 

Look lovi'lv and glowing as then. — 



10 



The Wood Robin 

Bui I lliiiik of the glories lliat fell 

Jii Uic harvest of sorrcjw aixl Ic.'irs, 
Till the song of the forest bird sounds like a l<iiell, 

'J oiling hack thnjugh the valley (jf years. 

Sweet bird, as thou singest, forloin 

'J'lxjugh the visions that rise Ikum ihe past, 

The deep of the futiu'e is purpling willi morn, 
And its mystery melting at l.ist. 

I kncjw that the s]>Iendor of youlh 

Will return to me yet, and my soul 
Will (loat in the sunlight of beauty .uid triilh, 

Where the tides of the inCunlc roll. 

C)h ! 1 f.iin would arist; and srt s;iil 

hrcjui the lowlands of trouble ;uid pain ; 

But 1 wait on the shore for the tarrying gale, 
And sigh for Ihe haven in v.iiu. 

And I watch for the ripples to jjlay 

And tell nic the breezes are nigh, 
Like a sailor who longs to \n: wafted away 

Tcj the lands that li(; hifl in the sky. 

But the whippof)rwill wails on tlu; mof)r, 

And day has deserted the west ; 
The mr)on glimmers flown through the vines at my 
dor)r, 

Aufl th(; robin has flown to her \\^^^^i. 

Adieu, gentle biid ! I'.ic 1li<- sim 

Shall line the green forest with light, 
TlK)u'lt wake from thy slumber more merry than one 

Who lieai'd the*' and bh-st thee to night. 



41 



SCOTLAND, I LOVE THEE 

Scotland ! I love thee : I cling to thee yet, 
As a young maiden clings to her lover ; 

1 love thy gray mountains, and never forget 

The glens which their dark shadows cover ; 
I know that the long weary leagues of the main 

Now hide thy green valleys from me, 
And I know that I never may tread them again, — 

Yet, Scotland, I'm dreaming of thee. 

O, Scotland, I love thee : I turn to thy shore 

With a song for each scene of my childhood, 
As a bird o'er the billow where rough waters roar 

Will turn to her nest in the wildwood : 
Then give me the storm-braving headlands that stand 

Like sentinels guarding the sea. 
The homes and the hearts of my dear native land, — 

O Scotland ! I'm dreamine of thee. 



42 



/ LOOK FOR THEE 

I KNOW that in this world of strife, 

Our paths will ever parted be, 
Yet sometimes on the hill of Life 

I pause, and turn to look for thee. 
I trace our footsteps back again, 

Down Youth's forsaken slope of flowers. 
Where all we knew of hope or pain 

Passed by, like April sheen and showers. 

I see the glen, the grove, the rill. 

Where last we sung of joys to come, 
And mourn to think we're living still 

Without a joy, without a home. 
Without a pillow for the head. 

Which may not know nor seek relief 
Till, in the dwelling of the dead. 

It finds forgetfulness of grief. 

The radiant June of love has fled. 

With all its birds and blossoms gay ; 
And we, like forms among the dead, 

Recalling spirits back to clay. 
Still cheerlessly must wander through 

The silent vaults of buried years, 
Where sleep the hopes no longer true. 

And Memory lives in groans and tears. 

We're traveling on a lonesome road, 

Deserted by the gleam of day. 
And on the heart there lies a load 

That Death alone can take av/ay. 
Farewell ! Thy soul, oppressed with strife, 

Will weep for scenes no more to be ; 
And sometimes, on the hill of Life, 

I'll pause, and turn to look for thee. 



43 



SWEET RUTH 

The summer will soon be liere, sweet Ruth ; 

For the birds of brighter bowers 
Are singing their way from the balmy south 

To the land of opening fiowers. 
But the summer will fade, and the flowers will die, 

And the birds from bank and plain 
Go mourning back to a warmer sky, 

While I wait for thee in vain. 

Oh ! many a heart and many a hand, 

I have prized in pain and bliss, 
Have found that rest in a better land 

Which they never knew in this ; 
And of all the forms that have fled with thee. 

From a kingdom fraught with tears, 
There are none that seem like thine to me 

Through the golden mist of years. 

But I never have wished thee back, sweet Ruth, 

In the years that since have rolled ; 
And I guard the memory of thy truth 

As a miser would his gold : 
The loneliest glens of my being know 

How the birds of peace may sing, 
And the darkest waves have caught the glow 

From a guardian angel's wing. 



44 



ART THOU LIVING YET? 

Is there no grand, immortal sphere 

Beyond this realm of broken ties, 
To fill the wants that mock us here. 

And dry the tears from weeping eyes? 
Where Winter melts in endless Spring, 

And June stands near with deathless flowers, 
Where we may hear the dear ones sing 

Who loved us in this world of ours? 
I ask, and lo ! my cheeks are wet 

With tears for one I cannot see : 

mother, art thou living yet. 
And dost thou still remember me? 

1 feel thy kisses o'er me thrill, 
Thou unseen angel of my life ; 

I hear thy hymns around me trill 

An undertone to care and strife ; 
Thy tender eyes upon me shine, 

As from a being glorified. 
Till I am thine and thou art mine, 

And I forget that thou hast died : 
I almost lose each vain regret 

In visions of a life to be : 
But, mother, art thou living yet, 

And dost thou still remember me? 

The Springtimes bloom, the Summers fade, 

The Winters blow along my way ; 
But over every light or shade 

Thy memory lives by night and day; 
It soothes to sleep my wildest pain, 

Like some sweet song that cannot die, 
And, like the murmur of the main. 

Grows deeper when the storm is nigh : 



45 



Art Thou Li'ving Yet? 

I know the brightest stars that set 
Return to bless the yearning sea, — 

But, mother, art thou Hving yet, 
And dost thou still remember me? 

I sometimes think thy soul comes back 

From o'er the dark and silent stream, 
Where last we watched thy shining track, 

To those green hills of which we dream ; 
Thy loving arms around me twine, 

My cheeks bloom younger in thy breath. 
Till thou art mine and I am thine. 

Without a thought of pain or death : 
And yet, at times my eyes are wet 

With tears for her I cannot see : 
O mother, are thou living yet, 

And dost thou still remember me? 



46 



THE BEAUTIFUL YEARS OF OUR LOVE 

I STOOD by that stream where the wild roses grew 
In the green bloom of summer when Nature looked 

new, 
And I thought of the time that I roamed there with 
you, 
In the beautiful years of our love. 
We were poor, but the pearl of affection was ours, 
And we loved the glad world with its sunshine and 

showers. 
For life was a wayside of fountains and flowers, 
In the beautiful years of our love. 

Now far from that valley I wander, and dream 

Of the raptures that perished with love's morning 

gleam ; 
And day is more lonely than night used to seem 

In the beautiful years of our love : 
For I miss your affection, the rose, and the stream 
That murmured its tune by the moon's mellow beam : 
Ah ! pleasure seemed real, and life a bright dream, 

In the beautiful years of our love. 

There are isles in Life's ocean we cannot forget 

Till the light of its sun in the billow has set. 

And our souls never turn but with longing regret 

To the beautiful years of our love : 
For we dreamed of the pleasure, and saw not the woe, 
Which Time o'er the scenes of the future might throw. 
And we hoped for the joys that we never should know, 

In the beautiful years of our love. 



47 



The Beautiful Years of Our Lo-ve 

As the exile looks back from the waves of the deep 
To the blue-fading hills where his forefathers sleep, 
Oh, thus when the waves of the present time sweep 

O'er the beautiful years of our love. 
Do our souls from the future look backward through 

tears 
To that shore where the splendor of youth disappears, 
And weep o'er the graves of those time-buried years, 

The beautiful years of our love. 



48 



FLOWERS ARE DYING 

Flowers are dying, 

Drooping, dying, 
On the liillside and the plain ; 

Birds are flying, 

Homeward hieing 
To the southern groves again. 
And the day retires in glory 

Westward with his i)urple shield, 
Like some hero, famed in story. 
Marching from the battle-field . 

Hopes are dying, 

Darkly dying; 
All the world looks back with pain, 

Vainly sighing. 

Vainly trying 
To recall the past again. 
Every vine to something cleaveth, 

Life grows leafless while it clings ; 
Every beam a shadow leaveth. 
Every hope a memory brings. 

Oh ! forever 

Down Life's river 
Storms will rend the quivering sail; 

Ties will sever, 

Hearts will shiver, 
In the bleak and bitter gale. 
Bards may sing the bright ideal, 
Prophets dream of fairer skies ; 
All must feel the shadowy real. 
And the present never dies. 



49 



STAR OF THE NORTH 

Star of Freedom burning high 
In the cold, dark northern sky, 
See the suff'rer turn to thee, 
Guide him safe from slavery. 

Chorus. 

Star of the North, we follow thee. 

We follow thee to Liberty, 

Nor dread the snows of Canada, 

With Freedom's blood to warm our veins, 

And Freedom's fire to melt our chains. 

When our hearts, bowed low with toil. 
Bleed upon a tyrant's soil. 
Through the gloom of slavery's night. 
Star of Freedom, pour thy light. 

When the bloodhound's angry howl 
Thrills with fear the faltering soul, — 
When for life we struggling pray, 
Star of Freedom, gild the way. 

When we drop the galling chain. 
When the promised land we gain. 
When we dwell where men are free, 
Still, bright star, we'll turn to thee. 



50 



A PROPHECY {t852) 

How glorious, how grandly bright 

Above the dark and suffering Earth, 
The Sun comes forth in deathless might! 

He has a smile for every hearth, 
And shines alike on scenes of crime 

And paths of angel purity, 
But never on a fairer clime 

Than that from which a slave must flee 
To find the boon his spirit craves. 
Yet cannot find where proudly waves 

The starry banner of the Free. 
Children of Afric's burning skies, 

Columbia's eagle yet will rise. 
And spread above your bleeding forms 

The pity of his sheltering wings, — 
Wings that have braved the raging storms 

Which rock the thrones of despot kings ! 
For Hope looks from the clouds above. 

And Liberty's clear bells are ringing, 
And generous hearts, like flowers of love, 

From every mountain-side are springing. 
From California's yellow sands 

To old Niagara's mighty fall, 
Where the broad lakes of Northern lands 

Leap madly from their mountain wall, 
They come, — they come in robes of light. 

With Freedom's lightning blazing o'er them 
They're bursting through Oppression's night, 

And tyrants fly in dread before them. 



51 



FREMONT S BATTLE HYMN 

Oh, spirits of Washington, Warren and Wayne ! 

Oh, shades of the heroes and patriots slain ! 

Come down from your mountains of emerald and 

gold, 
And smile on the banner ye cherished of old ; 
Descend in your glorified ranks to the strife, 
Like legions sent forth from the armies of life ; 
Let us feel your deep presence as waves feel the 

breeze. 
When white fleets like snowflakes are drowned in the 
seas. 

As the red lightnings run on the black, jagged cloud. 
Ere the thunder-king speaks from his wind-woven 

shroud. 
So gleams the bright steel along valley and shore, 
Ere the conflict shall startle the land with its roar: 
As the veil which conceals the clear starlight is riven 
When clouds strike together, by warring winds 

driven. 
So the blood of the race must be offered like rain. 
Ere the stars of our country are ransomed again. 

Proud sons of the soil where the palmetto grows. 
Once patriots and brothers, now traitors and foes, 
Ye have turned from the path which our forefathers 

trod, 
And stolen from man the best gift of his God, — 
Ye have trampled the tendrils of love in the ground, 
Ye have scofifed at the laws which the Nazarene found. 
Till the great wheel of justice seemed blocked for a 

time. 
And the eyes of humanity blinded with crime. 



53 



Fremont^ s Battle Hymn 

The hounds of Oppression were howling the knell 
Of martyrs and prophets at gibbet and cell, 
While Mercy despaired of the blossoming years 
When her harpstrings no more shall be rusted with 

tears ; 
But God never ceases to strike for the right, 
And the ring of His anvil came down through the 

night. 
Though the world was asleep and the Nation seemed 

dead, 
And Truth into bondage by Error was led. 

Will the banners of morn at your bidding be furled, 
When the day-king arises to quicken the world? 
Can ye cool the fierce fires of his heat-throbbing 

breast. 
Or turn him aside from his goal in the west? 
Ah ! sons of the plains where the orange-tree blooms. 
Ye may come to our pine-covered mountains for 

tombs, 
But the light ye would smother was kindled by One 
Who gave to the universe planet and sun. 

Go strangle the throat of Niagara's wrath. 

Till he utters no sound on his torrent-cvit path ; 

Go bind his great sinews of rock-wearing waves, 

Till he begs at your feet like your own fettered slaves ; 

Go cover his pulses with sods from the ground. 

Till he hides from your sight like a hare from the 

hound ; 
Then swarm to our borders, and silence the notes 
That thunder of Freedom from millions of throats. 



53 



Fremont's Battle Hymn 

Come on with your chattels, all worn, from the soil 
Where men receive scourging in payment for toil ; 
Come, robbers ! come, traitors ! we welcome y..u all, 
As the leaves of the forest are welcomed by fall : 
The birthright of manhood awaits for your slaves, 
But prisons and halters are waiting for knaves ; 
And the blades of our freemen are longing to rust 
With their blood who would bury om stars in the dust. 

They fade unlamented from life and from sight 
Whose lives are but shadows on Liberty's light ; 
They slumber unblest by fraternity's star 
W' ho have blocked up the track of huiuanity's car ; 
Regarded, when dead, by the wise and the good, 
As shepherds regard the deatl wolf in the wood. 
And only unhated when Heaven shall efface 
The memory of wrong from the souls of the race. 

The streams -may forget how they mingled our gore. 
And the myrtle entwine on their borders once more ; 
The song-birds of Peace shall return to our glades, 
And children clasp hands where their fathers clashed 

blades ; 
Columbia shall rise from her trial of fire 
More i)iu-e than she came from the hand of her sire : 
But Freedom will point the cold finger of scorn 
When History tells where her traitors were born. 



54 



FREEDOM'S DEAD 

All ! green their glory long will be 

Who give their lives U) liberty; 

Their names will linger broad and bright 

When other names are lost to sight ; 

Their memory will dearer grow 

While sounding seas and rivers flow ; 

And, though the world is black with crime, 

Their fame shall live, a light sublime, 

A pillar of deliverance burning, 

To which th' oppressed, for Freedom yearning 

May turn, as Israel turned of yore, 

And view from far the Promised Shore. 



55 



THE CHILDREN OF THE BATTLE-FIELD 

Upon the field of (R^ttyshurt;- 

Tlic stininicr sun was liif;li, 
When l''rcccK)in met licr haughty foe 

Hcneath a northern sky. 
Among the heroes of the North 

That swelled her grand array, 
And rushed like mountain eagles forth 

From happy homes away, 
There stood a man of humble fame, — 

A sire (^f children three, — 
And gazed within a little frame 

II is ])ie(ure(l ones to see: 
And blame him not if, in the strife, 

lie breathed a soldier's prayer, — 
"O Father! shield the soldier's wife, 

And for his children care." 

ITjKin the field of Gettysbiug, 

When morning shone again. 
The crimson cloud of battle burst 

In streams of fiery rain: 
Our legions quelled the awful Hood 

Of shot and steel and shell. 
While banners, marked wi(h ball and blood, 

Aroimd them rose and fell : 
And none more nobly won the name 

Of champion of the Free 
Than he who pressed the little frame 

That held his children three; 
And none were braver in the strife 

Than he who breathed the prayer, — 
"O Father! shield (he soldier's wife, 

And for his children care." 



56 



Children of the Battle- field 

Upon I lie field of ( iettyshiiif^ 

J lie full moon slowly rose, — 
She looked, and saw ten thousand brows 

All pale in death's repose; 
And down beside a silver stream, 

[•"rem other forms away, 
C'alni as a warrior in a dream, 

r)iir fallen (-f)mrade lay; 
II is limbs weri; cold, his sightless eyes 

Were fixed upon Ihc three 
.Sweet stars that rose in inrmory's slci(;s 

To li^ht him o'er dc.ith's sea. 
"Jlicn honored be the sohlicr's life. 

And hallowed be his ])rayer, — 
"O J'\-ither! shi(-ld the soldier's wife, 

And for his (•hildrcn care." 



r>7 



MINNIE MINTON 

Minnie Minton, in the shadow 

I have waited here alone, — 
On the battle's gory meadow, 

Which the scythe of death has mown, 
I have listened for your coming 

Till the dreary dawn of day. 
But I only hear the drumming, 

As the armies march away. 

Chorus. 

Minnie ! dear Minnie, 

I have heard the angel's warning, 

1 have seen the golden shore ; 

I will meet you in the morning 
Where the shadows come no more, — 
Nevermore, nevermore. 

Minnie Minton, I am wounded. 

And I know that I must die, 
By a stranger host surrounded, 

And no loved one kneeling nigh ; 
And I fain would hear you whisper 

In the twilight cold and gray. 
But I only hear the tramping 

As the armies march away. 

Minnie Minton, I am weary. 

And T long to reach my goal ; 
Yet the billows of old Erie 

Blue upon my memory roll ; 
And I pause to hear you singing 

By the waters of the bay. 
But I only hear the bugles 

As the armies march away. 



58 



Minnie Minion 

Minnie Minton, I've been dreaming 

Of those moments gone before, 
Ere I saw the sabres gleaming 

On the fields of death and gore ; 
And I thought that you were kneeling 

O'er the turf whereon 1 lay, 
But I woke to see the banners 

As the armies march away. 

Minnie Minton, I am dying. 

As the world recedes from view, 
I can see the old flag flying 

O'er the rebel rag of blue ; 
I behold the heroes saintly 

Who have fallen in the fray, 
And their bugles warble faintly 

As they beckon me away. 



51) 



SOUGHT BUT NEVER FOUND 

We'll sing to-night of other times 

That bloomed along the years 
Ere war had clanged its iron chimes, 

And filled our homes with tears ; 
And we'll recall a gallant form 

That sleeps among the slain, 
And dream that, safe irom shot and storm, 

Our brother lives again. 

We know the flag for which he died 

May never more be furled ; 
We know our land, though crucified, 

Will rise and bless the world, — 
But hearts must bleed while lands rejoice, 

And States forget their strife : 
We long to hear our brother's voice 

Blend with the sounds of life. 

The God of Peace rolls back the gloom. 

And stills the combat's roar, 
And bursting shell, and cannon's boom. 

Are heard in wrath no more; 
But who may count their distant graves, 

Unmarked by name or mound. 
Who. 'mid the home-returning braves, 

Were sought but never found? 



60 



WHEN YOU AND I WERE SOLDIER BOYS 

Oh, the stormy times we knew, 

In our suit of army blue, 
When you and I were soldier boys together, Will ; 

Ere they laid you in the soil, 

Where a glory crowns your toil 
As the springtime crowns the gloomy winter weather. 
Will. 

Chorus. 

Oh, gallant, gallant Will, 

Your noble heart is still 
Where the river v/aves roll in the sun ; 

You never more will thrill 

At the wild bugle's trill, 
Nor wake at the roar of the gun, — 

Nor march to the war drum rolling. 

Nor march to the war drum rolling, 

Nor march to the war drum rolling. 
Nor shout when the battle is won. 

Ah ! we loved each other more 

For the trials that we bore, 
When you and I were soldier boys in battle. Will ; 

And our hearts the stronger grew 

For the dangers we passed through, 
'Mid cannons' crash and rifles' deadly rattle, Will. 

Chorus. 

Though my fighting time has passed 
Like a storm upon the blast, 
And I walk no more among the dead and dying. Will, 
I recall the days with pride 
When we battled side by side, 
And the stripes and stars above our heads were flying, 
Will. 

Chorus. 

61 



When You and I Were Soldier Boys 

And I still remember you, 

Of the many tried and true, 
Who slumber now in southern glen and valley, Will ; 

And sometimes in a dream 

Will the old flag o'er me stream, 
While the spirits of the brave around it rally. Will. 

Chorus. 



62 



AMERICA AND IRELAND 

We will not forget thee, old Ireland, now 

That the storm-cloud hangs over thy borders. 
And the sigh of submission expires in a vow 

To be free as thy girdle of waters : 
The leaves of the shamrock are spreading afar, 

And we honor the heroes who bore them, 
When Siicridan, Mulligan, Corchran, and Meagher 

Like pillars of fire went before them. 

The roar of the lion is heard in the night. 

As he drinks from the depths of thy fountains ; 
But the eagles are pluming their pinions for flight 

On the crags of Columbia's mountains. 
They will fall on the lion with talons of steel, 

When the war-cry is raised by their brothers; 
They will strike, and the power of the tyrant shall 
reel 

'Neath the pangs he has meted to others. 

Forget not the time when the spirit of Moore 

Like a tropic breeze moved in thy bowers. 
And warmed every garden and glen of thy shore 

Till they blossomed with Liberty's flowers ; 
But languish not now for the summer of song, — 

Lo ! the autumn wind over thee rages; 
The fields are all ready, the reapers are strong, 

And they rush to the harvest of ages. 

O Erin ! thy glorious hair mingles with gray, 

And thy blue eyes are swimming in sorrow, 
But the millions who mock at thy visions to-day 

Shall view thee in wonder to-morrow : 
Thou shalt rise from the anguish now rending thy 
breast, 

And hurl on the scofifer thy scorning ; 
Thy night shall be lit by the stars of the West, 

Till it breaks into Freedom's full morning. 

63 



THE ROVER'S GRAVE 

TiiEY bore him away when day liad fled, 

And the storm was rolling hi<;h, 
And they laid him down in his lonely bed 

By the light of an angry sky; 
The lightning Hashed, and the wild sea lashed 

The shore with its foaming wave, 
And the thunder passed on the rushing blast, 

As il howled o'er the Ivover's (irave. 

No longer for him — like a fearless bird — 

Yon ])ark lloats under the lee. 
No longer his voice on the gale is heard 

When its guns peal over the sea ; 
But near him the white gull builds on high 

Her nest by the gleaming wave, 
And the heaving billows groan and die 

On the sands of the Rover's Grave. 



€4 



THE ROCK OF LIBERTY 

A SONG for the rock, the stern old rock, 
That braved the blast and the billows' shock; 
It was b(jrn with Time on a barren shore. 
And laughed with scorn at the breakers' roar I 
'Twas here that first the Pilgrim band 
Came weary up to the foaming strand ; 
And the tree they reared in those days gone by. 
It lives, it lives, — and ne'er shall die ! 

Thou firm old rock, in the ages past 
Thy brow was bleached by the warring blast; 
But thy wintry toil with the wave is o'er. 
And the billows beat thy base no more ! 
Yet countless as thy sands, old rock. 
Are the hardy sons of the Pilgrim stock ; 
And the tree they reared in the days gone by. 
It lives, it lives, — and ne'er shall die ! 

Then rest, old rock, on the sea-beat shore, — 
Our sires are lulled by the ocean's roar ! 
'Twas here that first their hymns were heard, 
O'er the startled cry of the white sea-bird! 
'Twas here they lived, 'twas here they died, — 
Their forms repose on the green hill's side ; 
But the tree they reared in the days gone by. 
It lives, it lives, — and ne'er shall die! 



65 



THE BOATMAN'S DREAM 

With \o\\g arm o'er the i)rairics tossed, 

And feet that bathed in tropic spray, 
And head all white with Northern frost, 

The mighty sire of waters lay : 
His lingers gleamed with priceless mines, 

Or watered herds along the plains, 
And lowly grass and lofty ]>ines 

Drew life and grandeur from his veins. 

The June winds left their mountain towers 

Which guard the Valleys of the West, 
With odors from a million ilowers 

To soothe the sleeping giant's rest ; 
They danced along his pulsing form. 

With many a quaint and charming grace. 
And threw their kisses, sweet and warm. 

In dimples on his (]uict face. 

It was the time when lunnan souls 

Their visioned thoughts of Heaven renew. 
And inspiration o'er us rolls 

From rising star and falling dew: 
The hour when higher aims have birth, 

And passion's wildest tides are still, — 
When angel pinions fan the earth, 

And men may feel them if they will. 

An hiuuble boatman viewed the scene 

In silence from his crew apart, 
As, slowly through the twilight sheen. 

His rude craft sought the Southern mart ; 
And o'er him swayed a form of light, 

Unseen, but felt in soul and mind ; 
As lightning glimmers through the night. 

Vivid and clear, yet imdefined. 



6G 



The Boatman's Dream 

A black man hummed a careless air, 

And toiled to swell a white man's gains, 
And little dreamed the boatman there 

Would yet redeem his race from chains. 
With folded arm and pensive eye 

The boatman gazed upon the stream; 
And, lo! the spell of prophecy 

Stole on his senses like a dream. 

And, like the sound of far-off floods. 

When ocean choirs majestic roll 
Their wild psalms through the mellowing woods, 

A low voice murmured to his soul. 
And sweeter than the hymns of birds 

Which thrill the springtime of the year, 
That low voice, melting into words. 

Thus sank upon his dreaming ear: 

"O'er highlands green and billows blue 

I bear the banner of the Free, 
I am the Genius of the True, 

The glorious Maid of Liberty; 
I led the Pilgrim to the rock, 

I tuned the soul of William Tell ; 
I live in every battle shock 

That rings the key to Slavery's knell. 

"God gave a New World to thy sires. 

When despots trampled on the Old; 
And I in Truth's eternal fires 

Baptized a nation for my fold : 
I took it from the lion's grasp. 

And fondly nursed its wondrous charms: 
I held it with a mother's clasp, 

And guided it through war's alarms. 



67 



The Boatman's Dream 

"And I have loved it since the time 

Of Lexington and Jlunkcr Hill; 
I've warned it of the Old World's crime, 

I pray that God may shield it still ; 
But God is just, and time is sure, 

And vengeance will arise at last, 
To crush the crime it cannot cure, 

In sword and fire and cannons' l^last. 

"What though the palm tree smite the pine, 

And Saxon's first recoil with pain? 
The Serpent of the South will twine 

Around the Eagle's nest in vain. 
It's folds shall know the squadrons' tread. 

The burning town, the combats' glare, 
While Mercy bows her golden head, 

And shuts her blue eyes in despair. 

"Go forth, sad man of thought and care. 

Of weary nights and anxious morns ; 
'Tis thine to toil, and wait and wear, 

'Mid sneers and taunts, the crown of thorns. 
But those who curse thee most shall bow 

And jjless thy work in brighter hours ; 
The crown shall l)lossom on thy brow. 

And all its thorns be changed to flowers. 

"Thy people do not know thee ; yet, 

In yon black night that looms afar, 
When all thy earthly hopes have set, 

Thy name will be their morning star : 
And by its light a race of slaves 

Will march as did the slaves of yore, 
Unfettered through the Red Sea waves. 

Triumphant to the Promised Shore." 



68 



The Boatman's Dream 

The full moon climbed the skies of June 

To hang her shield on lake and stream ; 
The river played a pleasant tune, 

And woke the boatman from his dream. 
And when the Junes of many years 

Had bloomed and ripened in the land, 
A nation placed, mid hopes and fears, 

Its sceptre in the boatman's hand. 

With life unsullied from his youth 

He meekly took the ruler's rod ; 
And, wielding it in love and truth, 

He lived, "the noblest work of God." 
He knew no fierce, unbalanced zeal, 

That spurns all human differings. 
Nor craven fear which shuns the steel 

That craves the way to better things. 

And in the night of blood and grief. 

When horror rested on the Ark, 
His was the calm, undimmed belief 

That felt God's presence in the dark. 
Full well he knew each wandering star 

That once had decked the azure dome, 
Would tremble through the clouds of war. 

And like a Prodigal come home. 

He perished ere the angel Peace 

Had rolled war's curtain from the sky; 
But he shall live when wrong shall cease, — 

The great and good can never die ; 
For, though his heart lies cold and still, 

We feel its beatings warm and grand, 
And still his spirit pulses thrill 

Through all the councils of the land. 



69 



The Boatman^ s Dream 

The flag of strife at length is furled, 

Rebellion drops the gory knife, 
The spring of peace glides up the world, 

Its buds are bursting into life; 
Beneath the death-clouds, low and dun, 

The serpent shrinks in black despair, 
We lift our eyes to freedom's sun. 

And see the eagles hovering there. 

Oh, for the hosts that sleep to-day, 

Lulled by the sound of southern waves : 
The sun that lit them in the fray 

Now warms the flowers upon their graves, 
Sweet flowers that speak like words of love 

Between the forms of friends and foe : 
Perchance their spirits meet above, 

Who crossed their battle blades below. 

'Twas not in vain the deluge came, 

And systems crunfl)led in the gloom ; 
And not in vain have sword and flame 

Robbed home and heart of life and bloom: 
The mourner's cross, the martyr's blood, 

Shall crown the world with holier rights ; 
And Slavery's storm and Slavery's flood 

Leave Freedom's ark on loftier heights. 



70 



THE OLD MOUNTAIN TREE 

Oh 1 the home wc loved by the bounding deep, 

Where the hihs in glory stood, 
And the moss-grown graves, where onv fathers sleep, 

'Neath the boughs of the waving wood; 
We remember yet, with a fond regret 

For the rock and the llowery lea, 
Where we once used to play through the long, long 
day. 

In the shade of the Old Mountain Tree. 

We are pilgrims now, in stranger lands. 

And the joys of youth are passed ; 
Kind friends are gone, but the old tree stands 

Unharmed by the warring blast : 
The lark may sing in the clouds of spring. 

And the swan on the silver sea. 
But we long for the shade where the wild bird made 

Her nest in the Old Mountain Tree. 

The time went by like a tale that's told, 

In a land of song and mirth, 
And many a form in the churchyard cold 

Finds rest from the cares of earth ; 
And many a day shall wander away 

O'er the waves of the western sea. 
And the heart will pine and vainly pray 

For a grave by the Old Mountain Tree. 



71 



THE EXILE'S RETURN 

My mountain home, my own green hills, 

I see your long-lost glories rise, 
I hear the birds and gushing rills 

That roam beneath your clear blue skies; 
Ah ! here I dwelt in early years, 

When hopes were high and Rearts were true. 
Ere love's bright dream was dimmed with tears, 

And life had lost its rainbow hue. 

My mountain home, sweet home of yore, 

I left your paths in life's fair May, 
And as I view their scenes once more 

I wipe the starting tear away : 
They greet me not, the young, the old. 

The early loved of boyhood's bloom. 
For years have rolled and hearts grown cold, 

And friends are sleeping in the tomb. 
I see my home on yonder hill, — 
The woods are waving o'er it still, 
While far below the torrent shines 
Like silver through the tow'ring pines. 



72 



JOYS OF MY CHILDHOOD 

Joys of my childhood, 
Vanished forever, 
Days oft remembered which never return. 
Flowers in the wildwood 
Path by the river. 
Long will their memory linger and burn. 
Dear was the home of my father and mother. 
There have I played with my sister and brother, 
There have I roamed by the side of another, 
Happy and pure in my life's merry morn. 

Friends of my childhood. 
Tender and loving, 
Scattered like leaves o'er the desolate plain, 
Dreams of my childhood. 
Where are ye roving, 
Never to gladden my pathway of pain? 
Morning that burns on the brow of the billow, 
Driving the mist from the mariner's pillow, 
Waking the lark from her nest 'neath the willow, 
Brings not the light of my lost youth again. 



73 



OHl TAKE ME FROM THE FESTAL THRONG 

Oh ! take me from the festal throng, 

Where loving hearts grow false and cold, 
And let me hear one burning song 

That thrilled my soul in days of old. 
I may not feel that kindling flame, 

The trembling hope, the inward glow. 
For dreams of beauty, love, and fame. 

Are faded lights of long ago. 

There's not a tone in Nature's voice. 

There's not a ray by noon or night. 
But lights the shrine of buried joys. 

Or tells a tale of lost delight, — 
The morning sun, the moon's pale beam. 

The stars that shine with fainter glow, 
And bird and breeze, and lake and stream. 

Bring back the forms of long ago. 

Then take me from the festal throng. 

Where loving hearts grow false and cold, 
And let me hear one burning song 

That thrilled my soul in days of old. 
I cannot trace those winding ways 

Where life's young flowers no longer grow. 
But, oh ! I feel beneath thy gaze 

The morning light of long ago. 



74 



MOONLIGHT AND STARLIGHT 

Far over ocean, o'er moorland and lea, 

Moonlight and starlight are beaming: 
Wake from thy slumber, and wander with me 

Down where the roses are dreaming. 
Come to the hills, 
Sing with the rills. 

Roam where the river is shining ; 
Oh, may our hopes, like the stars o'er the sea, 

Live when our day is declining. 
Moonlight and starlight, silently beaming. 

Gilding the mountain, silv'ring the wave, 
Moonlight and starlight, tenderly streaming 

Over the beautiful, over the brave. 

Daylight has flown to the caves of the deep. 

Mars o'er the mountain is burning; 
Rise ere the song-birds awake from their sleep, 
Come ere the dawn is returning; 
Sing me the lays 
Breathing of days 
Radiant with memories olden. 
Sweet as the flowers where the night shadows weep, 
Pure as the moonbeams golden. 

Moonlight and starlight, etc. 



75 



OREANNA 

The moon is on the sea, Oreanna, 
I'm dreaming still of thee, Oreanna; 

The stars are in the skies, 

But I'm thinking of the eyes 
That were more than all the stars of heaven to me. 

Shall I meet thee, Oreanna, 
When life's evening shadows meet eternal day? 

Wilt thou know me, Oreanna, 
In that morning light that never turns to gray? 

Oreanna, Oreanna. 

The summer days go by, Oreanna, 
The winters veil the sky, Oreanna ; 

But winter's chilling gloom 

Cannot quench the light and bloom 
Of that climate where the lilies never die. 

Shall I meet thee, Oreanna, 
When life's weary winter melts in endless May? 

Wilt thou love me, Oreanna, 
In that glowing spring that never dies away? 

Oreanna, Oreanna. 



76 



WE CANNOT GIVE THEE UP 

Return, dear one, return to-night, 

And cheer our lonely fold, 
Bring back those hours of glad delight 

More dear than fame or gold. 

Chorus. 

We cannot, cannot give thee up, 

We will not let thee go 
To drown thy soul, and drain the cup 

Of ruin, shame, and woe. 

Nay, by those bright departed days 
That gild our home no more, 

That shine through memory's tender haze 
From memory's golden shore. 
We cannot, etc. 

By Him who prayed and died for man, 

On Calvary's storied height, 
Who took the hand of Magdalen 

And led her to the light, 
We cannot, etc. 

The days seem dark when thou art gone. 
The nights are filled with tears ; 

Return, dear one, and bring the dawn 
Of happier, nobler years. 
We cannot, etc. 



77 



THE CAPTIVE 

I AM dreaming of my home, 
Of the valley where the torrent dashes by, 

Where the eagle and tlie wild deer love to roam, 
And the mountains hang their shadows in the sky. 

I am grieving for the maid 
Who will linger for her warrior in vain, 

She will listen for my signal in the shade, 
And the footsteps that will never come again. 

I am bleeding far away 
From the glories of my native mountain sky, 

And I'm longing in my bondage for the day 
When the foe shall lead their captive forth to die. 

In my slumber I am free. 
And. in dreams, again T grasp the bended bow; 

But I waken in my solitude to see 
The vision melt in fetters and in woe. 



78 



SONG OF THE INDIAN MOTHER 

Gently dream, my darling child, 
Sleeping in the lonely wild ; 
Would thy dreams might never know 
Clouds that darken mine with woe ; 
Oh ! to smile as thou art smiling, 
All my hopeless hours beguiling 
With the hope that thou mightst see 
Blessings that are hid from me. 

Chorus. 

Lullaby, my gentle boy. 
Sleeping in the wilderness, 

Dreaming in thy childish joy 
Of a mother's fond caress, — 
Lullaby, lullaby. 

Sleep, while gleams the council fire, 
Kindled by th y hunted sire : 
Guarded by thy God above. 
Sleep and dream of peace and love : 
Dream not of the band that perished 
From the sacred soil they cherished, 
Nor the ruthless race that roams 
O'er our ancient shrines and homes. 

Sleep, while autumn glories fly, 
'Neath the melancholy sky. 
From the trees before the storm. 
Chased by winter's tyrant form : 
Oh ! 'tis thus our Avarriors, wasted. 
From their altars torn and blasted, 
Followed by the storm of death. 
Fly before Oppression's breath. 



79 



Song of the Indian Mother 

Sleep, while iii^lU hides home ;iiul grave, 
Rest, while iiiouni the sulFriiij; brave, 
Mouniing- as thou, too, wilt nioiini, 
Throuj^h the ftilnre, wild and worn; 
Ih'uised in heart, in spirit shaken, 
.Seom-ged by man, by ( lod foisaken, 
Wandi'rinj;' on in war and strift-, 
Liviii}^ si ill, yi'l enrsinj; life. 

<'ould thy lendei- faney feel 

All thai m.inhood will revi-al, 

('(Mildst Ihoti dream thy breast w<)nl(| share 

Ml the ills thy fathers hear, 

'Ihon wonldst wi'ep as 1 am vvec-])in^, 

'Tearful walehes wildlv keepni.q, 

liy the silver-beamin'; li<;ht 

(^f the long" and lonelv ni,t;ht. 



«0 



MOONLIGHT HOURS 

VVii1':n m()()iili};lil Ixmrs in Id'auly bciuii 

Along' tlic iiiidiiiglit shore, 
1 wander by tlic waves and dream 

Of liours tlial shine no more; 
And then the tide ol by-gone years 

Ketnrns o'er hfe's blue sea, 
Till frcjm the rolling mist appears 

Each scene 1 loved with thcc. 

I he moonlight horns may wane and fade 

iM'oni yonder ihanging sky. 
The light of yonlli may Inrn to shade, 

An(l friendship's (ai)er die, — 
r.ut let the skies bi- dark or bright 

That bend o'ei- lifi's blue sea. 
My heart will view ihrongh day and nighl 

l^acli scene I loved with thee. 

When mooiiliglil lioins their beams nnite 

Along the nmrnnn'ing main, 
1 dream beneath their melting light 

Of hearts that meet again : 
The world may smile, and glory fling 

Its glance o'er scenes to be, 
Tint still my heart will Inrn ,-md cling 

To all I loved with lliee. 



81 



HARRY O'LANE 

The sunlight was streaming through woodbine and 
willow, 
The clover was blooming on meadow and plain, 
And a bark lloated off like a bird o'er the billow. 
The morning I parted from Harry O'Lane, — 
Dear Harry O'Lane, lost Harry O'Lane. 

The heavens grew dark, and I heard the wild warning 
That tells of a storm coming down on the main. 

And I knew in my heart that the last golden morning 
Had dawned on the world for my Harry O'Lane, — 
Dear Harry O'Lane, lost Harry O'Lane. 

The wing of the blast o'er the ocean came sweeping, 
I knelt to the God of the sailor in vain, 

And I dream of a form on the red coral sleeping, 
Where foundered the bark of my Harry O'Lane, — 
Dear Harry O'Lane, lost Harry O'Lane. 

The morning winds play through the bright golden 
willows, 
I hear the glad music of waters again, 
But never shall morning, nor breezes, nor billows. 
Bring back the glad voice of my TLirry O'Lane, — 
Dear LTarry O'Lane, lost Harry O'Lane. 



82 



'TIS SWEET TO BE REMEMBERED 

Oii I 'tis sweet to be remembered 

In the merry days of youth, 
While the world seems full of brightness, 

And the soul retains its truth ; 
When our hopes are like the morning beams 

That Hash along the sea. 
And every dream we know of life 

Is one of purity; 
'Tis sweet to be remembered 

As the spring remembers earth, 
Spreading roses in our pathway, 

Filling all our hearts with mirth. 

Oh ! 'tis sweet to be remembered 

In the summer-time of life. 
Ere we reach the burning summit 

With our weight of woe and strife ; 
To look backward through tlie shadows 

Where our journey first begun, 
And the golden flowers of memory 

Turn their faces to the sun ; 
*Tis sweet to be remembered, 

As the breeze remembers day, 
Floating upward from the valley, 

O'er the pilgrim's weary way. 

Oh ! 'tis sweet to be remembered 

When our life has lost its bloom, 
And every morning sun we meet 

May leave us at the tomb ; 
When our youth is half forgotten, 

And we gaze with yearnings fond 
From a world where all is dying 

To a deathless world beyond; 
'Tis sweet to be remembered. 

As the stars remember night. 
Shining downward through the darkness. 

With a pure and holv light. 

83 



MEET ME BY THE RUNNING BROOK 

Meet iiic by the running- brook, 

Where the drooping willows grow; 
Meet nie in the shady nook, 

Where the silver waters flow. 
Friends we loved are broken-hearted, 

Smiles have llown and tears have started 
Since the time when last we parted, 

In the days of U)ng- ago. 

Meet me when the starlight i)lays 

O'er the wavelets bright and low ; 
Tell me of our youthful days, 

Ere the heart knew pain or woe. 
Joy will come to charm and leave us. 

Lingering ho])c will still deceive us; 
Life had nothing dark to grieve us, 

In the days of long ago. 



84 



LET US LOVE WHILE WE MAY 

Let us love while we may, for the storms will arise 

As we sail (j'er the blue waves of rime, 
And the hopes of to-day may he hid from our eyes 

liy the noon-elouds that darken our prime. 
We may lo(jk for the lost hills of morning, and grieve, 

But the soft hush of twilight will eomc, 
And our souls on the rose-tinted billows of eve 

J''loat calmly away to tlieir home. 

Let us love while we live, and (Uir meni'ry will rise 

Like a halo of light from the grave, 
As the day from the deep lends a glow to the eyes 

That are guarding the gloom of the wave. 
'Jliere's a life in the soul that is better by far 

Than the glitter of glory and gold, — 
It may fade in the noon, but will shine like a star 

When the i)roud world is darksome and cold. 



MARION MOORE 

GoNic ail thou, IMarioii, Marion Moore, — 
Gone like llic bird in the uiiUinni thai singelli, 
Gone like tlie flower by the wayside thai springeth, 
Gone like I he leaf of the ivy (hat clinj^elh 

l\i)Uii(l till' lone roek on a storm Ix-aleii slK)rc. 

J)ear wert llK)n, Marion, Marit)n Moore, -- 
Dear as the tide in niy broken heart throbbing; 
Dear as the soul o'er ihy memory sobbing. 
Sorrow my life of its roses is robbing, 

Wasting is ail the glad beauty of yore. 

I will ri-mi-mbiT thc-e, Marion Moore, — 
1 shall remend)er, alas, to regril thee; 
I will regret when all others forget thee; 
Dei'p in my breast will the hoin* that I niel Ihee 

Linger and burn till life's fever is o'er. 

Gone art thou, Marion, Marion Moore, — 
Gone like the breeze o'er tlu- billow that blowelh. 
Gone as the rill, to the oeean that lloweth, 
Gone as the day from the gray moiml;nn goeth, 

Markness behind |1uh\ bnl <;lorv before. 

I'eace lo lliei', Marion, Marion Moore, — 
l\'aee whiih (he (|ueens of the earth eannot borrow, 
lV\'iee ffoiii a kingdom thai i-rowned thee with sor- 
row : 
Oh ! to be lia]>i>v with thee on (he morrow, 

Who woidd not llv fiom this desolale shore? 



86 



BEAUTIFUL ANNIU 

IJiiAUJ iMji, yXniiic, silver-voiced Annie, 

Gone ere tliy liglit. liearl knew s(jrrov/ and woe; 

Beautiful Annie, silver-voiced Annie, 

(;li, liow we miss thee no mortal may know! 

Sweet is tliy song, tiiougii the worid may not hear it; 

i'.right is thy h(jme, with the angels to cheer it; 

(Jh, for one view of thy glorified spirit, 
l^'ree from the fetters that hind us below! 

lieautiful Annie, silver-voiced Annie, 

(jone ere thy young life a shadow might feel ; 
JJeautiful Annie, silver-voiced Annie, 

Green is thy memory in sorrow and weal : 
Thine is the splendor (jf joy unfl(;ceiving, 
CJurs be the love to thy memory cleaving, 
rjurs b(; the faith which is blest in believing 
All the fond visions the angels rf:veal, 

lieautiful Annie, silver-voiced Annie, 

Gone from our jKithway in life's early iVIay; 
T'erintifiil Annie, silver-voiced Annie, 

Smile on our home Worn thy fdory-lil way. 
Glide round the hearts ihaf so oft vv^cre thy pillow, 
Sing in our gloftm like the bird in ihc willow. 
Come to our night like the star to the billow. 
Gilding the wave with a f)romise of a day. 



87 



THE DAWN OF REDEMPTION 

See them go forth Hkc the floods of the ocean, 

Gathering niighl from eacli mountain and glen; 
Wider and deeper the tide of devotion 

KoUs up to God from the bosoms of men ; 
Hear the great nuihitude singing in chorus, 

Groan as they gaze from their crimes to tlie sky, 
"Father, the midnight of death gathers o'er us, 

When win tlie dawn of redemption draw nigh?" 

"Look on us wanderers, sinful and lowly. 

Struggling with grief and temptation below; 
Thine is the goodness o'er every thing h(jly. 

Thine is the mercy to pity our woe ; 
Thine is the power to cleanse and restore us 

Spotless and ])ure as the angels on high, — 
Father, the midnight of death gathers o'er us, 

When will the dawn of redemption draw nigh?" 

Gray hair and golden youth, matron and maiden, 

]^ovcrs of mannnon and followers of fame, 
All with the same soltimn burden are laden. 

Lifting their souls to that one mighty name, — 
"Wild is the pathway that surges before us, 

On the broad waters the black shadows lie ; 
Father, the midnight of death gathers o'er us. 

When will the dawn of redemption draw nigh?" 

Lo! the vast depths of futurity's ocean 

Heave with the ])ulse of the Infinite breath. 
Why should we shrink from the billows' commotion? 

Angels are walking the waters of death ; 
Angels are blending their notes in the chorus. 

Rising like incense from earth to the sky, — 
"Father, the billows grow lighter before us, 

Heaven with its mansions etcrn:il draws nigh." 



88 



THE BEAUTIFUL HILLS 

i)\\ ! lliL- Jjcauliful Hills where the blest have Irod 

Since the years when the earth was new: 
Where our fathers gaze from the fields of God 

On the vale we are journeying thrfuigh : 
We have seen those hills in their iirightness rise 

When the world was black bchjw, 
And we felt the thrill (jf immortal eyes 
In the night of our darkest woe. 
Ihen sing of the lieautiful Hills, 

That rise from the evergreen shore; 
Oh ! sing of the Beautiful 1 1 ills, 

Where the weary shall loll no more. 

The cities oi yore llial were reared in crime, 

And renowned by the ])raise of seers, 
Went down in the tramp of old King Time, 

To sleep with his gray-haired years; 
But the Beautiful Hills rise bright and strong 

Through the smoke of old Time's red wars, 
As on that day when the fust deep song 

Rolled up from the morning stars. 
Then sing of the Beautiful Hills, etc. 

We dream of rest on the T>eautiful Hills, 

Where the traveler shall tljirst no more; 
And we hear the hum of a tlujusand rills 

That wanfler the green glens o'er. 
We can feel the souls of the martyred nK.m 

Who have braved a cohl world's frown; 
We can bear the burdens which they did then, 

Nor shrink from their thorny crown. 
Then sing of the Beautiful Hills, etc. 



89 



The Beautiful Hitls 

Our arms arc weak, yet wo would not (ling 

To our feci this load of oiu's. 
The winds of sprini;- to tlio valKvs siuj;-, 

And the lurf replies with llowers ; 
And thus we learn on our wintry way 

Mow a mightier arm eoutrols, 
That the hreath of (lod on our lives will play 

Till our hodics bloom to souls. 

Then sinj;- of the Beautiful TTills. etc. 



90 



PROPHET OF NAZARETH 

Svvi'.i'ir rroplii'l of Na/aiH'lli, loiistaiil and Under, 

Wliosc liulli like a laiiilxjw i-iiciiiUs llii' world; 
The lime is ai)|)roatliiii}4 wlieii vvroiij^ shall siiirendcr, 

And war's crimson hanners forever he fiiiKd; 
Wiien the throat <;f the lion no longer shall utter 

Jts roar of deliancc in tlesi 1 1 and idcn, 
Wlu'ii (he lands will join hands, and the Marls eannoii 
nnitter 

I lu'ir (liseords no more to (he ( hildren ol men. 

As hreaks the f^old snnlijj^ht, when heroes and sap^es 

Were risinjjf and falling;' like meteors in s])ace, 
A new j;iory hroke on the j^loom of (he aji^es, 

And love warmed (o life in (he j^lovv of iliy face; 
The wars of the ( )l(l Tinu- art; waning' and failinpf, 

'i"he peace of (he New Time o'erarches om- (ears, 
The orhs of the ( )Id Time are fadinj.- and palinj^', 

The Sim of (In- New Time is }.;ildin;; the years. 

The mist of (he ocean, (he spray of (he foiiidain, 

Till- vine on the hillside, (he moss on the shrine. 
The rose in (he valley, (he pine on the nioimtain. 

All (urn (o a j^lory (hat symhohth Thine; 
So T yearn for Thy love as (he pm"es( and dearest 

That ever nplifted a spirit from woe, 
And I (urn to Thy lif<' as (he (rnest and nearest 

'i\) liitmilt' ( ioodncss (hat mortals mav know. 

O Soul of the Orient, peerless and holy, 

I'Jithroned in a splendor all angels ahove, 
r would join widi (he singers (hat raise np the lowly, 

And pr.'u'se Thee in de("ds that are Christlikc in love. 
Let my words he as showers (lia( fall on (he hij^dilands, 

I')ejj;'o((en in shadows, expirinp^ in lijdit, 
While Thijie are (he hillows that sini; to life's islands 

Tn nnmbcrs nnhroken, by noonday and nif^i^ht. 



THE GUARDIAN ANGEL 

I COME not from the weeping willow-tree : 

I sing of climes where pleasures ever thrill, 
I bear a message of a life to be, 

When spheres dissolve, and warring waves are still ; 
I guard thee in the early morning light, 

The noonday glare, the glow that paints the west ; 
I gaze upon thee in the lonely night, 

And mark each sigh that stirs thy sleeping breast, 

'Tis mine to hover near thee every hour ; 

To note the cares that shade thy troubled face. 
Till life anew shall lift the fallen flower. 

And crown with deathless bloom each fading grace. 
Though life seems dark, and hope shines dim and far. 

Faint not ; I never leave thee long alone : — 
The golden light that speaks from star to star, 

Is far less fleet than love that claims its own. 



1)3 



LOOK UP 

Look up, look up, desponding soul. 

The clouds are only seeming. 
The light behind the dark'ning scroll 
Eternally is beaming. 
Wait on, hope on, 
Work with heart and hand ; 
Make room in your life for the angel throng 
From the beautiful morning land. 

The warmth and glow of deathless youth 
Shall crown the true endeavor ; 

The tide of God's immortal truth 
Climbs up and on forever. 

There is no death, there is no night, 

Nor life nor day declining ; 
Beyond the day's departing light 

The sun is always shining. 

Could we but pierce the rolling storms 

That veil the pathway sunward. 
We'd see a host of shining forms 

Forever beckonine onward. 



93 



WHERE THE ROSES NEVER WITHER 

WiiEKi': the roses ne'er sliall wither, 
Nor the clouds of sorrow gather, 

We sliall meet, we shall meet: 
Where no wintry storm can roll, 
Driving' summer from the soul; 
Where all hearts are tuned to love. 
On that happy shore above. 

Chorus. 

Where the roses ne'er shall wither, 
Nor the storms of sorrow gather. 
Angel banils will guide us thither. 
Where the roses ne'er shall wither. 

Where the hills are ever vernal, 
And the springs of youth eternal, 

We shall meet, we shall meet : 
Where life's morning dream returns. 
And the noonday never burns ; 
Where the dew of life is love. 
On (hat happy shore above. 

Where no cruel word is spoken. 
Where no faithful heart is broken, 
We shall meet, we shall meet : 
Hand in hand and heart to heart. 
Friend with friend, no more to part. 
Ne'er to grieve Un tliose we love, 
On that happy shore above. 



94 



THE ISLES OF THE BY AND BY 

We shall meet again in the i^y and By, 
Where the mountains gleam in the morning sky, 
We shall meet again in the land of Love, 
Our Father's home above. 

Chorus. 
We shall meet again, we shall nuMtt again, 

In the beautiful Isles of the By and By, 
We shall meet again, we shall meet again, 

In the Isles of the r>y and By. 

In the balmy Isles where the angels roam 
By the erystal seas of our Father's Home, 
There are forms of grace and •>! beauty rare, 
And the ones wc have lost arc there. 

We must part in tears when the twibght dies 
On the far-off hills of our evening skies ; 
We shall meet in joy where our dear ones stand 
In the gates of the Morning Land. 

Wc shall fall asleep where the auttunn grieves 
O'er the fading flowers and the falling leaves; 
We shall wake again where the angels sing 
In the bloom of eternal spring. 



95 



^ftcr His Fiftieth 
Birthday 



LORD, KEEP MY MEMORY GREEN 

My feet approach life's western slope: 

Above me bend the noonday skies, 
Jjeycjnd ine spreads the realm of hope, 

iieliind the land of memory lies; 
I know not what the years may bring 

Of dangers wild, or joys serene ; 
But turning to the east, I sing, 

"Lord, keep my memory green," 

land of winter and ol bloom, 

Of singing bird and moaning pine, 
Thy golden liglit, thy tender gloom, 

Ihy vales and mountains, all are mine! 
The holy loves of other years. 

With beck'ning hanrls toward me lean, 
And whisper, through their falling tears, 

"Lord, keep my memory green." 

Dear Memory! whose unchjuded gaze 
Can pierce the darkest wilds <jf space, 

1 see her morning watch-fires blaze, 
I feel her breezes fan my face ; 

I would not give the light .she flings 
Across my future's landscape scene 

For all the j^omp and j)Ower of kings, — 
"Lord, keep my memory green." 

Let Memory near my soul abide. 

With eye and voice to warn and win, 
Till Hope and Memory, side by side, 

Shall walk above the tides of sin, — 
Till from life's western lakes and rills 

The angel lifts the sunset sheen, 
And hangs it o'er the eastern hills, — 

"Lord, keep my memory green." 



99 



DAWN 

Vi':niis! lift yiuir faro diu'o more 
Abovo (lie siiij^iiij; ol tlic iiiaiii. 

1 staiul tii)oii a troiil)k'cl sliotr 

Ami U)i)k ami loii}^ for you in v.iin; 
1 hoar the ocean sob ami call, 

Like some f^reat life by love iiiiblest 
I see (lie waters rise ami fall 

Like warrim; passions in (he briast ; 
The foreheads of (he far olT isles 

Are bathin};- iti (he springs of dawn: 
O Venus! lift your faee in snult"S, 

And lell me that (lu- mi^hl is i^one. 



100 



THH HAST AND rilli WliST 

J -AND wlicri- (lie l)ii};lil (l;iy dies 

()ii the ('iii|)ii"f'.s iU};}',f(| hiciist, 
VVIlcic llir iivcl .'.oiiiccs I isc, 

And mil to llic c.isl .iihI wi-sI, 
We hail IIkc, vvc Ii.iiI IIkc, 

JMoiii (tiir liij;li ami massive walls, 
Where the mijjlily soul of foiiiiiicrcc 

'J'o (he "star of empire" (alls, 
We hail lliee, we liail llie(t 

h'rom many a Iciidcr shrine 
Where oiii loviiij; mothers shimhcl" 

III the shade ol oal< and |)iiie,— . 
I'Voiii many a held of h.ittle 

I'.y the hlood of heroes hlesl, 
Where the e;i)des fonjjilt l<i};ether 

I'oi the (Mand old parent nesl. 

J -and of llnr iiioi iiiiij.; lijdit , 

C )f the pine and driftinj^ snow, 
Of the dark ^;reen moiinlain heij^hl, 

And rivers that dawnward (low. 
We hail thee, we hail ihee, 

I'rom onr j)raiiies hroad and fr<*e, 
Where llie fields of jMain aic waving 

Like the billows of the sea. 
We hail thee, we hail tliei-, 

I'Voni oin- western simnnits hold 
Where the rocks are li<'d tojM-lher 

With yellow threads of ^old, - 
Where the awful shadows liiifM-r 

In onr canyons wild and j',riiii, 
And the toricnl j-od is sinj'iiii; 

1 lis evei last iiij';^ hymn. 



GOING HOME 

Kiss me when my spirit flies, — 
Let tlie beauty of your eyes 
Beam along the waves of death 
While I draw my i)arting breath, 
And am borne to yonder shore 
Where the billows beat no more. 
And the notes of entlless spring 
Through the groves immortal ring. 

I am going home to-night, 
Out of blindness into sight, 
Out of weakness, war, and pain, 
Into power, peace, and gain, 
Out of winter gale and gloom 
Into sunnner breath and bloom ; 
From the wantl'rings of the past 
I am going home at last. 

Kiss my lips and let me go : 
Nearer swells the solemn flow 
Of Ihe wondrous stream that rolls 
By the border land of souls ; 
I can catch sweet strains of songs 
]''loating down from distant throngs, 
And can feel the touch of hands 
Reaching out from angel bands. 

Anger's frown and envy's thrust. 
Friendship chilled by cold distrust, 
Sleejiless night and weary morn. 
Toil in fruitless land forlorn, 
Aching head and breaking heart. 
Love destroyed by slander's dart. 
Drifting ship and darkened sea. 
Over there will righted be. 



102 



Going Home 

Sing in numbers low and sweet, 
Let the songs of two worlds meet, 
We shall not be sundered long, — 
Like the fragments of a scjng, 
Like the branehes of a rill 
Parted by llie vock or hill, 
Wc shaU blend in tune or time, 
Loving on in [)erfect rliyiiie. 

When the noontide of your days 
Yields to twilight's silver haze. 
Ere the world recedes in space. 
Heavenward lift your tender face; 
Let your dear eyes homeward shine, 
Let your spirit call for mine, 
And my own will answer you 
From the deep and boundless blue. 

Swifter than the sunbeam's flight 
I will cleave the gloom of night. 
And will guide you to the land 
Where our loved ones waiting stand, 
And the legions of the blest 
There shall welcome you to rest; 
They will know you when your eyes 
On the isles of glory rise. 

When the i)artcd streams of life 
Join beyonrl all jarring strife, 
Anrl the flowers tliat withered lay 
Blossom in immortal May ; 
When the voices hushed and dear 
Thrill once more the raptured ear, 
Wc shall feel, rmd know, and see. 
God knew better far than we. 

103 



THE PICTURE 

It was only a symbol in soft light and shade 

Which the sun lookinq' down in his j^lory had nindo, 

But the sight of it touched ine that niornini;- in May 

As a billow is touched by the birth of the day; 

The landscape of Life at my feel lay unrolled, 

Its rivers of silver, its sunsets of ,t;ol(l ; 

I heard the spring torrent rush down from the hill, 

And, faint from the lowlands, the wood-robin's trill. 



104 



NIGHT ON THE PRAIRIE 

1 AM lioro aj;aiii, whore llic [)rairics svvoi'i) 

Like llic rolling" tides ol a sIidicIcss ticcp ; 

And J caslvvard (iini, vvliilc llic clear, hri^lil eyes 

Of till' planets ll.isli in the niidnif^ht skies; 

lujr dearer than all the orbs that shine 

From the Milky Way to the world's low line, 

Is one vvliose eyes arc awaitiiiL; me 

Behind the gales of the eastern sea. 

l'"ar np and awav in the starry heights 
Are the ehangiiig spires of the wild north lights. 
As they form an<l fade, then gather again, 
IJke the sheen of spears on the battle |)laiii, 
Like the gleam of crests through the awful gloom 
Where the Arctic monsters crash and boom, 
And the nnembed ice-steeds plunge and tramp 
O'er the sentry lines of the storm-god's camp. 

T am all .iloiie in llu' wanin;; iiiglil : 

I have lingered here in the growing liglit 

Till the stars have jialed, and the skies turned gray 

In the westward march of the coming day; 

And 1(^ ! my beautiful Mornint'; Star 

("lind)s over the brown horizon bar 

And beckons to tue from the verge of space 

With the soul of day in her tender face. 



10.-) 



THE MOUNT OF THE HOL Y CROSS 

The ocean divulcd. the laiul strui;i;li\l tluougli. 
And a newly born continent huist into view ; 
Like fnrrows upturned by tlie pKnis;lisbare of God, 
'J'be inoinitain cbains rose wbere the billows liad trod; 
And their tinveritij; snuniiits. in mighty arr.i\ , 
Turned their terrible brows to the s;lare of \\\<- day, 
Like sentinels _i;uardins;' the s^ateway oi Tiiuo. 
Lest the eonlael with mortals slu>nld stain it with 
crime. 

The ocean was vantinished. the lu-w woiid was lu)rn. 
Its headlands linns;' back the bi^lil ehalleuj^e o\ morn ; 
The sun from the tremblitn; sea marslialled the mist 
Till the hills by the soul of the iH'ean were kissetl ; 
And the Winter kins; iwiclu'd from his rloml-eastled 

hei.qht 
1\> hani; on each bnnv the tirst «;arland of white; 
For iho crxstals came forth at the tiMich of his wanil. 
And tlie sonl o{ the siM ruled a_i;ain on (lu- lat\vl. 

Then ari\>^i- the loud moan o\ the ilesolate tide. 

As it callcil back its own from the far momUaiu side : 

"O soul of my soiU ! by the sun leil astray, 

Kelurn to the heart that whmiUI hold thee alway ; 

The stni ami the silver moon woc^ me in vain. 
V>y day and by nij^ht 1 .'.m sobbiui; with pain; 
Oh. U^ved of my boso \i ! ( ih. ehild of the l'>ee, 
Come back to the lips that arc waitim; for thee!" 



But n sotuul. like all melodies mingled in one, 
Came down through the sp.ices that cradled the stm. 
Like nuisic from far-distant planets it fell. 
Till earth, ;nr, and ocean were hushed in the spell : 



106 



The Moan/ of tlw Holy Cross 

"Wc sik'iil, yi' w.'ilc'is, aiul ccisc yoiii ;il.iiiii, 
All luolioii is only llic pulse of my .inii ; 
III my hrciilli llu- v;isl systems muMiiii^ly svviii};. 
And mine is llir rlioiiis the iiiniiiiiii; sl.iis siiif^. 

" 'Twas mine to crc.'itc llicm, 'lis mine In i(iiiiiii.iii<l 

Tlu* l.'ltxl to llu- ucc.'iii, llu- sen to tlic I.iihI ; 

All, all arc my crcitmcs, .iml tlicy who WMtiild }j;ivc 

True woisliip In me loi' each olliei imisl live. 

Lo 1 I leave on llie moiiiit.iiii a ;>ii;ii that shall he 

A type of the union of laud and sea, 

An eiuMem of aujMiish that comes beloic hliss, 

[''or they who would ((»U(pier uuisl conipier hy this." 

riu' roar of llu- eaitlupiake in answer was heard, 
The land fiom its solid foimdalion was sliri(-<|, 
The hreasi of llie nuxnitain was rent hy (he shock, 
And a eross was reveale«| on the heart of the rock; 
( )ne hand pointinj.;' south, where the Iropie jjales blow, 
And one to the kingdom of winter an<l snow, 
While its laee liirned to welconie the dawn from afar, 
Mre.lordan had rolh-il under I'.el lilehem':. star. 

The li.np of the elements over it swnnj^', 

In Ihe wild chimes of Nalnre its advent was riinp, 

Around il the hail' of the VVinlei-kinj; cmled, 

A}',aiusl it in fury his lances were hniletl, 

And the pnlsi' of Ihe hm ricane beat in its face 

Till the ^;nows were locked drcp in its miidily embrace, 

And ils aims were oiitsli i l( hid on the niountaiii's 

cold brea.st. 
As spotless and white as the robes of the blest. 



107 



The Mount of the Holy Cross 

Then the spirit of Suniincr came up from the south 
With the smile of the Junes on her beautiful mouth, 
And breathed on the valleys, the plains, and the hills, 
While the snow rippled home in the arms of the rills; 
The winter was gone, but the symbol was there, 
Towering mutely and grand, like the angel of prayer. 
Where the morning shall stream on the place of its 

birth 
Till the last cross is borne by the toilers of earth. 

It will never grow old while the sea-breath is drawn 
From the lips of the billows at evening and dawn. 
While heaven's pure finger transiigurcs the dews, 
And with garlands of frost-work its beauty renews ; 
It was there when the blocks of the pyramid pile 
Were drifting in sands on the plains of the Nile, 
And it still shall point homeward, a token of trust, 
When pyramids crumble in dinmess and dust. 

It shall lean o'er the world like a b.-mner of peace 
Till discord and war between brothers shall cease. 
Till the red sea of time shall be cleansed of its gore, 
And the years like white pebbles be washed to the 

shore ; 
As long as the incense from ocean shall rise 
To weave its bright woof on the warp of the skies. 
As long as the clouds into crystals shall part, 
That cross shall srleam hiqh on the Continent's heart. 



108 



THE SILVER PILGRIM 

Wk knew liiin many years ago, 

One of a band of nuble boys, 

On old Chautauqua's grassy plains, 

A stranger to life's ijitter pains, 

Before his deep eyes caught tJie glow 

Of manhood's graver aims and joys : 

Before ambition's fever dream 

Had launched him on the restless stream 

Of human lives, that surged and rolled 

Across tile world in searcli of gold, — 

The stream whose bed is tilled with graves 

Of thousands strangled in the waves 

While looking out with eager eyes 

Toward the ever-llitting prize, — 

The stream vi^hose noisy billows chase 

Around the Rocky M(juntains' base, 

Then rolling on, with tunmlt fdls 

The silver city of the hills. 

Whence leap the ocean's new-b(jrn rills, 

The mountain city of the West, — 

A hammock swung from crest to crest, 

A hammock hung to fast'nings rude 

Up in the awful solitude 

Where twice ten thousand souls abide 

Ten thousand feet above the tide 

That kisses with its foamy lips 

The keels of fifty thousand ships. 

And clutches with its briny hands 

The outlines of a thousand lands. 

The years rolled by, — his feet had pressed 
The tniils that cross the high divide 

That sends its fountains east and west. 
To inland sea and ocean wide ; 



109 



The Silver Pilgrim 

And still the same unrest remained 
That chafes in every earnest soul 

Which strives for objects unattained, 
Yet knows that earth holds not the goal. 

And when, at last, "his time had come," 

Before the years that mark man's prime 
Had fallen from the boughs of time, 
It fovmd him where the busy hum 
Of stranger voices rose and fell. 
While yet a parent's late farewell, 
From hearts that were too full to speak, 
Was lingering fresh on lip and cheek. 

On one of those soft summer's days 
Which only mountain regions know. 

Where earth is like a hymn of praise, 
And heaven seems list'ning near and low, 

They brought him to the "miner's rest," 

With fever in his weary breast. 

But in his soul that holy trust 

Which comes at last to cheer the just. 

There knelt beside that sacred bed 
But two from all the household band. 

And when the last low words were said, 
A sister's lips, a brother's hand. 

Were softly laid on cheek and head. 
As if to waft across the land, 

O'er mountains vast and deserts drear. 

The sig-ns which all would wish to hear. 



110 



The Siher Pilgrim 

The August moon was fair and young, 
Its crescent o'er Mt. Massive hung, 
And touched with silver-tinted Hnes 
The solemn canyons, rocks, and pines; 
And midnight stars looked softly down 
Upon the Mammon-haunted town, 
As though they viewed with mournful ken 
The griefs that cloud the homes of men. 

Without a struggle or a sigh. 
To hint that death was passing by. 
He joined the angels from the sky, 
And calmly crossed the border-line 

Beyond life's crest of rock and snow, 
And saw the hills immortal shine. 

And heard the fountain's heavenward flow. 
Where peace shall crown the weary heart 

With sweeter rest than mortals find. 
And never from the eye shall start 

The tears that prove the troubled mind. 



Ill 



RETROSPECTION 

I CAN talk with you when the day is done, 

And the dosing scene of earth draws nigh, 
And the amber tides of the evening sun 

Flow back to the verge of the eastern sky; 
I may tell you then what 1 would not say 

When the low-land mist half hides the truth, 
And Hope sits veiled by the thorny way 

That winds to the far-off heights of youth. 

O ! those mountain ranges soft and dim 

Whose outlines curve in the light of spring, 
While the clouds of May above them swim, 

And the bees of May to their blossoms sing; 
I can shut my eyes and the olden time 

Returns like the cry of a wounded bird, 
And our heart-life seems like a half-formed rhyme 

That failed for the want of a fitting word. 

We were happy there, in the long ago, 

As the rills that near to their sources glide. 
Till we mingled in one broken flow. 

And together leaped to a life untried, — 
And in discord rushed with heedless haste. 

Till a torrent into a river grew. 
And the river crept through a treeless waste, 

With only a desert land in view. 

It is vain to mourn, and to blame were worse, — 

We both were young and had yet to prove 
That the deepest woe and the deadliest curse 

Are sometimes quaffed in our thirst for love : 
There are lines of grief on your troubled brow 

That the curious throng may read aloud ; 
If I have deceived the world till now, 

'Tis because a sono-vvTeath hides a shroud. 



11^ 



Retrospection 

'Tis the afternoon of a lonely day, 

The autumn side of a weary year, 
The sun is dim and the skies are gray 

And the early frost will soon be here, — 
I can rest your head till the day is o'er, 

And the yellow sunset lights your hair, 
And I would to God we could each give more 

Than a brother's love and a sister's prayer. 

We can walk in peace, and at least be friends. 

For the lives that sprang from you and me, 
For the angel one whose presence blends 

This hungering life with the life to be ; 
A few short miles, and the morning light 

Of a perfect day will guide our feet, 
Where the tear-wet ways shall all end right, 

And the lost be found and the parted meet. 



113 



THE WOMAN AND THE ANGEL 

She sat on the side of the mountain, 

The cataract thundered below; 
Above her the roofs of the ages 

Were hfting their thatches of snow; 
The landscape was swimming in glory, 

The sky and the earth were in love, 
And the great peaks seemed hanging like anchors 

Cast out from the planets above. 

'Twas the land where the pale lips of winter 

To the ripe lips of August are pressed ; 
Where the dead, fro/.eii heart of the rain-drop 

Revives on the lily's white breast ; 
The cool tide of summer poured round us, 

The bird in the aspen sang sweet. 
And the cedar-ribbed shaft of the miner 

Yawned darkly and deep at our feet. 

She had turned from the vision of splendor, 

Which Nature before us had spread. 
To a form that went down and ascended 

By the windlass that wound overhead ; 
Then her face, for a moment averted, 

Was raised to the blue of the skies, 
And I saw the white soul of the woman 

Shine out through the blue of her eyes. 

Unmoved by the voices without her, 

She hearkened to voices within. 
And I know that the angels had sjioken 

To save her from anguish and sin. 
Two spirits contended above her, — 

One fierce and malignant, one mild ; 
One strove for a treacherous lover. 

One plead for a pass'on-swaycd child. 

114 



The Woman and Ihe Angel 

Then she sUjoped, as our voices grew louder 

111 converse, in nuisie and mirth, 
And traced, willi lur delicate hng'er, 

Strange Hues in ihc dust of the earth ; 
She knew not their language or inipijrt : 

A spirit directed her hand, 
And I leaven alone might interpret 

Those characters wntlen iu sand. 

She ceased, for tlu' conllict was over. 

The glory hatl gone from her face; 
And a look, half despairing, half loving. 

Came forth, and was throned in its place; 
And a storm, broken loose from the mountain, 

Swept over the vale in its llight; 
And the sweet bird that sang in the ;ispeii 

Muttered downward in dumhiiess and fright. 

She descended that night to the vall(;y, 

C)])])ressed with confusion and pnin; 
'J'he tempter had concpiered the tempted, 

Tlu; angel had pleaded in vain : 
And Ihe will of her cai)tor surged 'round her 

Like the tide that encircles the bark, 
Which, rudderless, crewless, :ind helpless, 

Drifts out in llie desolate dark. 

I'.ul the rmgel will follow her footsteps 

( )'er mountains, in cities and ships: 
She will hear its low c;dl in the midnight, 

And aw.ake to the touch of its lips; 
And her soul from the spell shall be lifted, 

P'or the woman illumines it still; 
And the s])irit that coiuiuered the tempest 

Sh.'dl stren"th<u tin- liid<s of her will. 



115 



I CARE NOT FOR THIS WORLD WITHOUT THEE 

I CARE not for this world without thee, 

Apart from Ihee all life is pain, 
The liowers that bloom and breathe about me, 
If thou art gone, unfold in vain : 
The sun and the moon, the twilight, the dawn. 
Grow dim if the light of thy love be withdrawn; 
Ah ! never can my spirit doubt thee 
While hope and trust and life remain. 

Chorus. 

Oh ! hear me, hear me when I call thee, 
When the moon is on the mountain beaming, 
Or the stars are dreaming 

Where the billows roll, — 
111 cannot befall me 

While thou art near my soul. 

Let other friends betray and leave me, 

And tears of bitter anguish fall, 
I know one light will not deceive me, 
I know one ear will hear my call : 
The sun may expire, the bright stars decay, 
But thou wilt draw nearer while worlds fade away, 
Ah ! never more can mortal grieve me. 
While dwells thine image over all. 

Chorus. 
Oh ! hear me, etc. 



116 



BY THE BORDERS OF THE SEA 

i>Y the borders of the sea, 
On his couch the Ruler lay, 
With death's twilight slowly creeping 

Through the noontide of his day ; 
And the waves complaining moan 
And tlie breathing of the spray. 
Drifted upward from the bosom 
Of the bay. 

From that window looking out 
O'er the ocean's ebb and flow. 
How his weary lieart goes backward 

To the land of long ago. 
Where a little cabin stands, 

While the trees wave to and fro, 
And his mother's voice is singing 
Sweet and low. 

And that mother prays alone 
When the toil of day is done, 
That the struggling boy may conquer 

In life's battle just begun: 
But she dreams not of a time 

When, with shouts of victory won. 
All the nation shall be turning 
To her son. 

From that quiet cabin home 
To the marble halls of state 
Is a life-track winding upward, 

'Neath the golden star of fate ; 
At the end a sorrowing race 

With bowed hearts in silence wait. 
While immortal hands swing open 
Glory's gate. 

117 



OUR DREAM BY THE RIVER 

'TwAS here that we wandered wlien winter was over, 

And saw the white apple-blooms falling like snow, 
The birds in the trees and the bees in the clover 

Were tuning their notes to the water's soft flow ; 
The earth was awaiting the birth of her roses. 

When all her sweet voices in harmony sing. 
I shall never forget, till the day of life closes, 

Our dream by the river that morning in spring. 

The soul of that morning still lingers in splendor. 

The song of the water still rings in my ears. 
That look in your eyes, half reproachful yet tender. 

Has haunted my life through a long night of years; 
On the vast rolling ]:)lains where the rivers pressed 
onward 

For freedom and rest in tlie fetterless blue, 
On the wonderful heights where the mountains swept 
sunward 

I've paused to remember that morning and you. 



118 



CHILDREN'S DAY 

The wintry winds have flown away 

To colder lands than ours, 
And summer brings this joyous day 

With all its wealth of flowers ; 
We come in many a happy throng, 

We meet in every clime. 
To crown with love and cheerful song 

The dearest name of T;hju. 

Refrain, 

We come, we come, 

Amid the bloom of June; 
Our hearts are light. 
Our faces bright. 

Our voices all in tune ; 
We come, we come, 

Our love for Him to prove 
Who took the children in His arms, 

And blest them with His love. 

Let lilies breathe and roses fling 

Their fragrance on the air, 
And all the birds of summer sing 

In one melodious prayer ; 
Let mountain, river, rill, and lake 

Give praises to His name. 
And every voice of Nature wake 

Our hearts to holy flame. 



119 



THE CAPTAIN'S SIGNAL 

I AM safe in port, but 1 watch aiul wait 
For another boat to bring my Mate, — 
The faithful Mate, who, in cahn antl strife, 
Had cruised with me o'er the seas of Hfe. 
I left our crew at the close of day, — 
It is hardly a cable's length away, — 
And stepped ashore in a (juiet bay ; 
A silver cloud on the lowlands lay, 
And through the mist, by a radiant band, 
I was borne across o'er the border land. 

And my Mate sits gazing out through tears, 

For her heart goes back to our youthful years, 

When all the storms of the ocean wide 

Might beat and break o'er the good ship's side, 

And never a sturdy spar or mast 

Would yield at the rage of tide or blast, 

And never n sail at the storm-king's frown, 

Like a frightened bird would flutter down, 

And never a spar nor a timber start 

From her maintop high to her oaken heart. 

Mate of my life ! though hid from view 
By the silver mist, T am guarding you. 
And will linger near till the day is done, 
And the white sail furled in the western sun ; 
When the boat-keel grates on tlie golden strand, 
Ere the hulk sinks down in the shifting sand, 

1 will welcome you to the bright green land, — ' 
You shall see my face, you will grasp my hand. 
And wander with me the New Realm o'er, 
Where the dreams of youth can be lost no more. 



120 



THE GOLDEN DREAM 

The golden dream of ull my life 
Is framed in soft September's ray, 

And rises o'er long leagues of strife 
Like some blest island far away : 

Its memory lias haunted me, 

When Icjve seemed like a leafless tree, 
And charmed away my ])ain, love, 
And sung within my brain, love. 

Like music from a moonlit sea. 

O queen of all my royal hours, 
Before your glance all sorrow flies, 

Your face looks (jUt from stars an<l flowers, 
And lends new grace to hills and skies ; 

No more I tread the barren Htranrls, 

Through lonely wastes of burning sands, 
I walk no more in gloom, love. 
My life is glad with bloom, love. 

And all its wealth is in your hands. 

My every thought, in woe or weal. 
Across your soul some token flings. 

And every new-born hope you feel 
In my own spirit soars and sings ; 

The love that leaps from soul to soul 

Whose impulse Fate could not control, 
Shall conquer Time and Art, love. 
Shall hold us heart to heart, love, 

Wyien Time's brief years no longer roll. 

My life is yours, your life is mine; 

Like crystal waters interwove. 
No mortal will can fix a line 

To part the mingled tides of love : 



131 



The Golden Dream 

The storms that vox the ocean's face, 
Can only mar its outward ,i;racc, 
While calm helow its crest, love, 
Deep down within its breast, love. 
The waves arc hdled in love's embrace. 



122 



COMPLETENESS 

O LOVK that all my bciii^ warms! 

O love that shields my life from storms! 

() love that every im|nilse wills, 

And every flittinj^ fancy (ills! 

love tiiat sliines thrrjuj^h all my dreams 
Like starlij^ht through the summer streams; 
'Jliat thrills with melody my days, 

And rounds all discord into praise! — 

1 lean my face iij>on thy breast 

As henrls my noon-ray to the west, 
And calmly, in my open boat, 
1 floating sinj^- and singinj^ float. 
I wait no more by wayside lakes. 
To dally with the reeds anrl brakes; 
Tiehind me fade the mountain snf;ws. 
And in my face the June wind blows, 
While strong and wide the currents sweep 
Toward the ever-calling deep. 

If JVC that rocks me in its arms. 
And makes me brave amidst alarms! 

1 know not where fhy stream may lead, 
Through rocky pass or flowery mead, 
I only feel ihat I am blest; 

I only know f am at rest. 



123 



LOVE'S MORNING CALL 

Come over the valley, my darling, my own, 

The flowers are waking in gladness and dew, 
The spirit of night has deserted its throne, 

There's a blush of delight on the mountain's dark 
blue; 
The arrows of morning are winging their way 

From a quiver of gold on the billow's broad breast, 
The isles of the ocean are purpling with day, 

The moon lies asleep at the gates of the west, 

I've seen the wild waters encompass your form 

As you reached in the darkness for comfort and 
light, 
I've heard your low call in the din of the storm, 

And felt your soft touch in the stillness of night ; 
Your life shall forget all the anguish it bore 

When adrift and alone on a desolate deep ; 
The phantom of sorrow shall haunt you no more 

'Mid the cares of the day nor in visions of sleep. 

Oh ! love is of being the glory and grace, 

The power, the impulse, the voice, and the breath ! 
It can rest in the light of a dearly loved face, 

Yet is stronger than edict and ruler o'er death ; 
If planets and systems between us should roll, 

And our paths by the spaces be sundered apart, 
I should know when a shadow swept over your soul, 

And be swayed by the innermost pulse of your 
heart. 

Come out from the lowlands, my beautiful one, 

I've crossed the dark mountains that hid you from 
me; 

The young morning's laugh ripples up from the sun. 
And dimples with smiles the sad face of the sea ; 



124 



Lovers Morning Call 

From the highlands of gold to the valleys of green 
The voices of summer are singing in tune. 

And roses are waiting to welcome the queen 

With their red lips upturned for the kisses of June. 



125 



JUNE DAYS 

The Queen of all the year 

Once more walks land and sea ; 
Her days of bloom are here, 

To tell my soul of thee : 
The dearest days of all I know 

In summer shade or shine, 
For in their soft light long ago 

A soul was born for mine. 
O royal June ! 
Sweet flowering June ! 
Her song is in the rill 

That to the valley flows, 
Her tender eyes 
Light earth and skies. 

Her cheek with beauty glows, 
Her breath perfumes the hill, 

Her lips are in the rose. 

And though we walked apart 

Till life's brief May was o'er, 
The summer of the heart 

Is ours forever more. 
And so the Junes are ever new, 
And filled with glad surprise, 
For all their bloom, their light and dew. 
Are blended in thine eyes. 
O royal June ! 
Sweet flowering June ! 
Her song is in the rill 

That to the valley flows, 
Her tender eyes 
Light earth and skies, 

Her cheek with beauty glows. 
Her breath perfumes the hill. 

Her lips are in the ro?o. 



126 



TO DR, JAMES C, JACKSON 

Grand Prophet of life, when thy sun shall go down, 
And clouds fade in glory that gathered in frown, 
And the Hves thou hast blessed with thine own life 

and light 
Shine forth like the stars in the dome of the night, 
Thou shalt look o'er the labor-worn track of the past, 
And thy spirit rejoice in its travail at last ; 
The crown of the victor shall rest on thy brow. 
And mortals behold thee as angels do now. 



127 



TWO CONQUERORS 

'TwAS midnight on the tented plain, 

The din of strife had died away, 
And, tangled in the lion's mane, 

The captive Corsican eagle lay ; 
No more, 'mid shouts of victory won, 

His pinions climbed the morning light, — 
The splendor of his noonday sun 

Was quenched in swift and awful night ; 
They bore him in his iron cage 

To stern Helena's rock-walled shore. 
To beat the bars with baffled rage 

In answer to the ocean's roar. 
There, haunted by the orphan's shriek. 

The widow's curse, the mother's moan, 
With battered wings and muzzled beak 

The bird of doom was left alone; 
And when he died the pent-up wrath 

Of Nature burst in flame and flood, 
As if to cleanse his blackened path 

Whose rule was born of woe and blood : 
And Freedom will his name record 

With those who bore her name in vain, — 
Who raised on high the victor's sword. 

But forged for man a tyrant's chain. 



Oh, silent man, whose mighty deeds 

Awoke the land from dumb despair. 
Who rose responsive to our needs 

In answer to a nation's prayer, — 
Whose trustful manhood, warm and true, 

Through every act and impulse ran. 
Till foes whom war could not subdue 

Surrendered to the kindlv Man. — 
Oh, Master of each storied field 

Where mortal man wnth thee has striven, 

128 



Tm)o Conquerors 

Till death itself was forced to yield 

And fly before thy faith in heaven : 
When every battle-flag is furled, 

And love has wiped away our tears, 
When songs of peace shall thrill the world. 

Thy life shall tower above the years 
Like some calm mountain, crowned with snows 

Which o'er the storms of summer shine, 
From whose green heart a river flows. 

And o'er whose feet the myrtles twine ; 
And Freedom's hand shall write thy name 

Among the few bright names of Time 
That glow with all a conqueror's fame. 

Unclouded by a conqueror's crime. 



129 



MY PRAYER 

Father, bend Thine ear and hear me 

While 1 call to Thee in prayer, 
Let Thine angels linger near me 

In my time of grief and care, — 
Like the sun upon the river 

Let Thy love upon me shine, 
Till my life shall sing forever 

In the boundless deep of Thine. 

Father, when my lips are pleading 

For the weary march to end, 
Homeless, lonely, torn, and bleeding. 

Let me find in Thee a friend; 
When like leaves my hopes are falling. 

And despair has filled my breast. 
Let me hear Thy low voice calling, — 

"Come, and I will give you rest." 

Father, let Thy spirit guide me 

Through the darkness and the blast, 
Let Thine angels walk beside me, 

Till temptation's power be past, — 
Till I view the heights supernal 

Tow'ring o'er life's changing sea, 
Till I tread the vales eternal, 

Where the blest are led by Thee. 



130 



THE INFIMTE MOTHER 

I AM mother of Life, and companion of God, 
I move in each mote from the suns to the sod, 
I brood in aU darkness, i gleam in all light, 
I fathom all depth and i crown every height ; 
Within me the globes of the universe roll, 
And through me all matter takes impress and soul. 
Without me all forms into chaos would fall, 
I was under, within and around, over all, 
Ere the stars of the morning in harmony sung. 
Or the systems and suns from their grand arches 
swung. 

I loved you, O Earth, in those cycles profound, 
When darkness unbroken encircled you round. 
And the fruit of creation, the race of mankind. 
Was only a dream in the Infinite mind; 
I nursed you, O Earth, ere your oceans were born, 
Or your mountains rejoiced in the gladness of morn, 
When naked and helpless you came from the womb. 
Ere the seasons had decked you with verdure and 

bloom, 
And all that appeared of your form or your face 
Was a bare, lurid ball in the vast wilds of space. 

When your bosom was shaken and rent with alarms 
I calmed and caressed you to sleep in my arms, 
I sung o'er your pillow the song of the spheres 
Till the hum of its melody softened your fears. 
And the hot flames of passion burned low in your 

breast 
As you lay on my heart like a maiden at rest ; 
When fevered, I cooled you with mist nnd with 

shower, 
And kissed you with cloudlet and rainbow and flower 



131 



The Infinite Mother 

Till you woke in the heavens arrayed like a queen, 
In garments of purple, of gold and of green. 
From fabrics of glory my lingers had spun 
For the mother of nations and bride of the sun. 

There was love in your face, and your bosom rose lair, 
And the scent of your lilies made fragrant the air, 
And your blush in the glance of your lover was rare 
As you waltzed in the light of his warm yellow hair. 
Or lay in the haze of his tropical noons, 
Or slept 'neath the gaze of the passionless moons, — 
And 1 stretched out my arms from the awful unknown 
Whose channels are swept by my rivers alone, 
And held you secure in your young mother-days, 
And sung to your otYspring their lullaby lays, 
While races and nations came forth from your breast, 
Lived, struggled, and died, and returned there to rest. 

All creatures conceived at the Fountain of Cause 
Arc born of my travail, controlled by my laws ; 
I throb in their veins and I breathe in their breath, 
Combine them for effort, disperse them in death; 
No form is too great or minute for my care, 
No place so remote but my presence is there. 
I bend in the grasses that whisper of spring, 
I lean o'er the spaces to hear the stars sing, 
I laugh with the infant, I roar with the sea, 
I roll in llic thunder, T hum with the bee ; 
From the centre of suns to the flowers of the sod 
I am shuttle nnd loom in the purpose of Cod, 
The ladder of action all spirit nuist climb 
To the clear heights of T.ove from the lowlands of 
Time. 



132 



The Infinite Mother 

'Tis mine to protect you, fair bride of the sun, 
Till the task of the bride and the bridegroom is done; 
Till the roses that crown you shall wither away, 
And the bloom on your beautiful cheek shall decay ; 
Till the soft golden locks of your lover turn gray 
And palsy shall fall on the pulses of Day ; 
Till you cease to give birth to the children of men. 
And your forms are absorbed in my currents ngain, — 
But your sons and daughters, unconquered by strife, 
Shall rise on my pinions and bathe in my life, 
While the fierce glowing splendors of suns cease to 

burn, 
And bright constellations to vapor return. 
And new ones that rise from the graves of the old. 
Shine, fade, and dissolve like a tale that is told. 



133 



LOVE'S IMMORTALITY 

On, the gladness and glory 

Of life and of time 

When love's dual story 

Is told in one rhyme ! 

When one face is pictured on brain and on eye, 

And one name is written on rainbow and sky; 

When the robins sing love through all seasons and 

changes, 
And waves whisper love in the arms of the night ; 
W^hen the years rise before us like green mountain 

ranges, 
W'hose cedars and myrtles are bathed in one light. 

Like the rose by the fountain 

That mirrors its hue, 
Like the rain on the moimtain 
That hungers for dew, 
So your life in the stream of my life saw its own. 
So your presence brought flowers where no flowers 

had blown. 
Oh, the clasp of our souls was the glory of living! 
We shared with each other in pleasure and pain, 
For the wealth of our love was the rapture of giving. 
And all that we gave was the sweetest of gain. 

Like the sun to the ocean 
Where two vessels glide, 

Keeping time to one motion 
Of breeze and of tide. 
Was the spell of our love to life's billow and air, 
And in sorrow and shadow we knew it was there : 
We knew it at midnight by stars shining o'er us, 
When mist hid the deep, by a voice and a breath 
Floating ever above and behind and before us, 
A presence in darkness, in trial, and death. 



134 



Lo've's Immortality 

How it sang- thr(jugli all weather 

In mind and in heart ! 
How it willed us together 
When sundered apart ! 
How the sweet star of liope cast her smile ow the 

strife 
Where the surges of fate shook the headlands of life ! 
The landscapes of time have their Junes and Decem- 
bers, 
And rivers of beauty between them that roll, 
But of all that my spirit beholds or remembers, 
Our love is the warmth, and the light, and the soul. 

It may pass like the shower 
That watered the earth; 

It may fade like the flower 
That springtime gave birth ; 
The sun may go down on its gladness and bloom. 
And the winter storm shroud it in drift and in gloom ; 
But the rain shall live on in the heart of the river. 
The rose tint ascend to the cloud and the sky ; 
And the love that is ours shall enfold us forever, 
When fountain, and river, and ocean are dry. 



135 



OUR LOVE SHALL NEVER DIE 

i\'o matter where my leet may stand, 
On silent plain or noisy strand, 
On sailing ship or solitl land, 
In lowly ways or mountains grand, 

My soul is close to you, love, 

My soul is close to you. 

No matter what my lips may say 
To turn the (piestioning world away, 
In moments sad, in nK)menls g'ay, 
In clouded night or cloudless day. 

My life to you is true, love. 

My life to you is true. 

The morning suns may lose their gold, 
The bright warm noons turn pale and \:iA( 
And all bright things we now behold 
In earth and air and wave, grow old, 
And fade from brain and eye, love. 
And fade from brain and eye. 

But in the gloom of deepest night 
A rose shall wave in beauty bright, 
A star shall hail the morning light, 
A bird shall sing across the night, 

"Our love shall never die, love. 

Our love shall never die." 



136 



VENUS 

When Venus rises from tin- deep 
Willi morning; k1<^^''.V in Ik^t face, 

And all lit r train have ^(jne to sleep 
iieliind tlu- paling doiiit- of space, 

Sweet nicMn'rics tlirouj^li my bcin}^ sweep 
Of one whose rare and lovinj^ j^race 

IHun^i^ f/er my dark and lonely way 

A promise of the coming day. 

When Venus from her tlirtjuc of hlile 
Stfjops down to touch the western sea, 

Before her train ai)p(ars in view 
I'Vom out the calm Innnensity, 

I turn to her, anrl think of you, 

Whose love is life and lij^ht to me, 

Whose touch controlled my troubled breast, 

And gave nic peace for wild tmrest. 



U7 



A FRAGMENT 

0\\. kools thai ricll llir soas o\ loiij; at^o! 

(^li. sails thai drift od in llio luoiiiiiii; lis;Iil, 
Till. lost hcliiiul llir lino of ici- ami snow. 

Thov .^learned no luoro iipiMi our loiij^iiij; siqlit I 
\N'liMt j^oldiMi walors now around tlioin roll, 

W'luM'c isles of hoanly sleep in liviuj;^ hlooin? 
Wliat };lorios draw tluMu lo llio r'^t(>nial role, 

Whose lieatllands <;linuiier thromdi llie norlli nij^lit 
plooin? 



138 



THE WOMAN IN THE MOON 

() moonIiImI In iiii your sl.ii I y lici(;lil 
Looks down oil rivet", Like .iiid sr.i, 
Go seek her eyis whose leiuh-r li^;hl 

Is more Ih.iti sl.ir .iiid sun lo me; 
keMecl <iii (hiiie (lie ladiaiil l.iee 

I li.it I hccrcd my vv.'iy when all was dark, 
And send the pieltire d<twn throu^li spare 

i'o \\yj\\ the lide Ihal Ixars my hark. 

Ah. moon! I see liei imafM- now 

Ixelleeled on Ihy silver shiehl, 
It sways hefore my vessel's prctw, — 

'The fairest wave and sky ean yield. 
I see iicr face ill heaiily rise, 

And, o'er Ihe cIianfMiij', jdaiiee ol lliiiie, 
The steadfast i^lory of her eyes 

Is heainiujj^ fondly into mine. 



139 



ON THE BEACH 

O Imogkne, loved Imogenc ! 

I stand upon llic ho.icli lo-day, 
And watch the white sails fading;' dim 
O'er the hlue deeps that He serene 

Against the low sky far away, 
And wonder if yon think of him 
Who vainly waits for tide and p^ale 

To brings his treasures from the main, 
Whose ho])es went forth like ships that sail. 

And come not back to port aj;ain. 



140 



THE VOICE OF THE PEOPLE 

SwiMG iiivvurti, (J gales ol ihc luUircl 

Swing oiilvvarcl, yc doors ol (he past, 
For the soul oi the people is iiioviug 

And rising Ironi sliunber al last ; 
The Itlaclv forms of iiigiit are retreating, 

The white peai<s have signalled the day, 
And I'reedoin her long roll is heating, 

yXnd ealliiig her sons lo llu- fray. 

And woe to I he rule llial has plundered 

And hod down the wounded and slain, 
Wiiile (he wars of the Old Time have Ihundered, 

And men poured their life-tide in vain; 
The day of its Irimnph is ending, 

'J'lie evening draws near with its doom, 
And the star of its strength is descending, 

To sIcH'p in dishonor and gloom. 

Though the tall trees are erowiu'd on the highlands 

With the fust gold of r.'u'nhovv and sun, 
While far in the distrmee helovv thi'ui 

The rivers in d;irk shadows run, 
They must fall, and (he workmen sli;ill hurn them 

Where (he lauds and (he low waleirt mce(, 
And (he s(ei'ds of (he New Time shall spui-u them 

With (he soles of their swift Hying feci. 

Swing inward, C) gates! till the moiniu"; 

Sh;dl paint the hrown moimtaius in I'old, 
Till the life and (he lovo of (he New Time 

Sh;ill eou(|tier (he hate of (he Old; 
T.e( (he fnee and (he hand of the NTaster 

No longer he hidrlen from view, 
Nor the lauds he prep-'ired for (li(> many 

T'e (r;uiiple(| ;iud rohhed hv (he few. 



141 



The Voice of the People 

The soil tells the same fruitful story, 

The seasons their bounties display, 
And the flowers lift their faces in glory 

To catch the warm kisses of day ; 
While our fellows are treated as cattle 

That are muzzled when treading the corn, 
And millions sink down in Life's battle 

With a sigh for the day they were born. 

Must the Sea plead in vain that the River 

May return to its mother for rest. 
And the Earth beg the rain clouds to give her 

Of dews they have drawn from her breast? 
Lo ! the answer comes back in a mutter 

From domes where the quick lightnings glow, 
And from heights where the mad waters utter 

Their warning to dwellers below. 

And woe to the robbers who gather 

In fields where they never have sown, 
Who have stolen the jewels from labor 

And builded to Mammon a throne ; 
For the snow-king, asleep by the fountains, 

Shall wake in the summer's hot breath, 
And descend in his rage from the mountains, 

Bearing terror, destruction, and death. 

And the throne of their god shall be crumbled, 

And the sceptre be swept from his hand, 
And the heart of the haughty be humbled, 

And a servant be chief in the land, — 
And the Truth and the Power united 

Shall rise from the graves of the True, 
And the wrongs of the Old Time be righted 

In the might and the light of the New. 



142 



The Voice of the People 

For the Lord of the harvest hath said it, 

Whose Hps never uttered a lie, 
And His prophets and poets have read it 

In symbols of earth and of sky : 
That to him who has revelled in plunder 

Till the angel of conscience is dumb, 
The shock of the earthquake and thunder 

And tempest and torrent shall come. 

Swing inward, O gates of the future ! 

Swing outward, ye doors of the past, 
A giant is waking from slumber 

And rending his fetters at last ; 
From the dust where his proud tyrants found him, 

Unhonored and scorned and betrayed. 
He shall rise with the sunlight around him. 

And rule in the realm he has made. 



14J 



THE MARTYR OF TRUTH 

Tie my wrists with hempen strands 

While brazen force around me stands ! — 

You cannot with your fetters bind 

The daring impulse of the mind, 

Nor quench the lightning sparks of thought 

That upward from the scaff(jld leap, 

To live and wait through slavery's years 
'Till ] Jestiny's firm web is wrought — 
To bide their time while tyrants sleep, 
And prisoners pace their cells and weep — 
Then burst with power, in bolt and flash, 
And roaring flood and thunder crash 

In answer to the exile's tears ! — 
To work their will, above control 
Of human customs, courts and laws; 
So leaped the fires of Emmet's soul. 
To burn anew in Freedom's cause 
Wherever blades for I'^eedom rise. 
Wherever Freedom's banners stream. 
Wherever Freedom's thunders roll, 
Wherever Freedom's lightnings gleam, 
And man for Freedom strikes and dies! 

Still my pulse and stop my breath! — 
Who works with Truth may play with Death, 
Hang me quick and hang me high ! — 
So hung the form of old John Brown ; 
And though they cut the body down, 
The shadow broader, higher grew; 
It met the seas, it reached the sky, 
And darkened mountain, lake and town! — 
Wherever Freedom's eagle flew. 
Wherever Freedom's breezes blew — 
From frigid North to fervid South, 
From Maine to broad Columbia's mouth — 



144 



The Martyr of Truth 

The shadow towered above the world 

Where freedom's stars in shame were furled; 

It turned the stars and sun to blood, 

And poured on earth a crimson flood ! — 

The Nation quaffed the bloody rain, 

And all her first-born sons were slain. 

Let me die ! My work is done ! 
The dying stars proclaim the sun 
That weaker eyes could not behold. 
And lower lights had not foretold ; 
Then die upon a bed of gold, 

Because the grander light is born! 
The highland rills that seaward glide, 
May vanish in the mountain side. 
And, sinking through the voiceless earth. 
Within the cold, dark caves abide; 
But naught can stay their "second birth," 

Or dim their resurrection morn ; 
Sometime, somewhere, in stronger tide, 
And warmer light and broader sweep, 
They rush to swell the distant deep. 
That turns its awful palms to Heaven 
That girdles with its mighty bands 
All kingdoms, empires, realms, and lands, - 
Within whose all-embracing rim 
The fleets of Nations sink or swim 
Like fire-flies in the mist of even, 
And on whose all-receiving breast 
The Ages lay their dead to rest. 

Lead me forth! I'm ready now! 
Pull the black cap o'er my brow ! — 
You cannot blind my inner sight: 
I see the dawn behind the night, 
Beyond the dawn I sec the day ; 

145 



The Martyr of Truth 

And through the day 1 see the Truth 

Arising in inunortal youth ! 

The sunbeams on her forehead play, 

The hhes in her tresses twine, 

The Peace of God dwells in her face 

And rolls the clouds of war away ; 

Around her feet the roses grow. 

Her tender bosoms swell and flow 

With healing for the stricken race, 

And in her eyes seraphic shine 

Faith, ITope and Love and every grace! — 

The Old recedes, the New descends! 

Earth clasps the hand that Heaven extends 

The Lion and the Lamb are friends ! 



146 



A SONG FOR THE PERIOD 

"O ! WEAVE US a bright and cheerful rhyme 

Of our land vvliere the lig tree grows, 
And llic air is sweet in the New Year time 

Willi the breath of the new-born rose." 
This message rang while the engine roared 

By the wharf at the city's feet, 
Where the white-winged birds of trade lay moored 

In a vast, unnumbered fleet. 

It filled my ears as we moved away, 

And the iron wheels rolled on, 
From the noisy town and the sobbing bay. 

For the wilds of Oregon, 
Where the mountain cloud and the mossy sod 

Are kissed by the self-same rills, 
And the torrents beat like the pulse of God 

In the hearts of the ancient hills. 

And I sung of the broad and generous fields 

That were fresh with a promise rare, — 
Of the mother-breast that sweetly yields 

All life to the People's prayer, — 
But my song grew sad with a minor tone 

From the souls of the outcast poor 
Who asked for work and received a stone, 

As they tramped o'er the lonely moor. 

Then T thought of a land whose faith was sealed 

By the blood of the brave and great — 
Of the strong, fierce bird, and the starry shield 

That guarded the halls of State, — 
But the eagle watched o'er the idle gold 

That was heaped on the rich man's floor, 
While the gaunt wolf leered at the toiler's fold. 

And howled by the poor man's door. 



U7 



A Song for the Period 

I cannot join with llic olil liiiir fiieiuls 

In tht'ir merry f^aiiu-s and spurts 
While the pleacUiifj^ wail of the poor ascends 

To the Jiidp^e of the Upper Courts, — 
And [ cannot sinj^' the f^dad free sonps 

That the world aronnd nie sin^s, 
While my fellows move in crinj^ini,^ throngs 

At the heck of the .^ildi-d kiiij^^s. 

The scales hanj^' low, from the open skies, - 

That have weighed them one and all, — 
And the fiery letters gleam and rise 

O'er the feast in the palace hall, 
P>nt my lighter lays shall simnher on 

'j'he honghs of the willow tree 
Till the King is slain in P.ahylon, 

And the c.'iplive hosts go free. 



148 



A VISION OF THE OLD AND NEW 

TwAS in tlic slmiibcr of llic night — 

Tliat S(jlcnin liinc, that mystic state — 
When, fnjni its loftiest si^Mial height, 

My soul o'eilo(;l«:d the reahn of I<'ate, 
Ariri read the writing on the wall, 

That prophesies of things U) be, 
And heard strange voices rise and fall 

Like nitirniurs from a distant sea. 

'J'he world hrl.nv nic thiohhcd au'l rolled 

In all its ghjry, pride and shame, 
Its lust for power, its greed for gold, 

Jts flitting lights that man calls fame, — 
And frfjm their long and deep repose. 

In memory and page sublime, 
The ancient races round me rose 

Like phantoms from the tombs of Time. 

I saw the Alpine torrents press 

To 'J'iber with their snow-white foam. 
And prowling in the wilderness 

The wolf that suckled infant f^omc. 
But wilrlcr than the mountain firjod 

That plimged upon its downward way, 
Anrl fiercer than the she-wolf's brood. 

The soul of m.-m went fr^rth to stay. 

Kingdoms to rjuick existence sprang, 

Each thirsting ffjr another's gore, 
The din of wars incessant rang. 

And signs of hate each forehead wore. 
All nations bore the mark of din, 

And onlv knew fhe law f-f mif^ht : 
They livffl rnvl strove for selfish gain 

And perished like the dreams of night. 
***♦♦«♦ 

149 



A Vision of the Old and Ne<zv 

I woke : and slept, and dreamed once more, 

And from a continent's white crest, 
I heard two oceans seethe and roar, 

Along vast lands by nature blest : 
All races mingled at my feet 

With noise and strange confusion rife, 
And Old World projects — incomplete — 

Seemed maddened with a new-found life. 

The thirst for human blood had waned ; 

But boldly seated on the throne. 
The grasping god of Mammon reigned, 

And claimed Earth's product for his owiic 
He gathered all that toilers made, 

To fill his vaults with wealth untold 
The sunlight, water, air, and shade 

Paid tribute to his greed for gold. 

He humbly paid his vows to God, 

While agents gathered rents and dues. 
He ruled the nation with a nod, 

And bribed the pulpit with the pews ; 
Yet, over all the regal form 

Of Freedom towered, unseen by him, 
And eagles poised above the storm 

That draped the far horizon's rim. 
At length, the distant thunder spoke 

In deep and threatening accents ; then 
The long roll of the earthquake woke 

From sleep a hundred million men. 



150 



A Vision of the Old and Neiv 

I woke: and slept and dreamed again: 

A softened glory filled the air, 
The morning flooded land and main, 

And Peace was brooding everywhere; 
From sea to sea the song was known 

That only God's own children know. 
Whose notes, by angel voices sown. 

Took root two thousand years ago. 

No more the wandering feet had need 

Of priestly guides to Paradise, 
And banished was the iron creed 

That measured God by man's devise ; 
No more the high cathedral dome 

Was reared to tell His honors by. 
For Christ was throned in every home, 

And shone from every human eye. 

No longer did the beast control 

And make the spirit desolate ; 
No more the poor man's struggling soul 

Sank down before the wheel of Fate : 
And pestilence could not draAv near, 

Nor war and crime be felt or seen — 
As flames that lap the Avithered spear, 

Expire before the living green. 

And all of this shall come to pass — 

For God is Love and Love shall reign. 
Though nations first dissolve like grass 

Before the fire that sweeps the plain; 
And men shall cease to lift their gaze 

To seek Him in the far-off blue, 
But live the Truth their lips now praise 

And in His life their lives renew. 



151 



A Vision of the Old and Neto 

There yet shall rise beneath the sky — 

Unvexed by narrow greed for pelf — 
A race whose practice shall deny 

The heartless creed, — "each for himself." 
There is no halt nor compromise 

Between the ways all life has trod — 
*Tis downward with the brute that dies, 

Or upward with the sons of God. 



152 



THE NORTH STAR 

When twilight's purple veil is furled 

Jjeyond the western verge ot day, 
And slowly o'er the darkened world 

The stars come forth in bright array — 
When Venus hides her burning face 

Upon Old Ocean's peaceful breast, 
Or — weary of his march through space — 

Mars camps behind the mountain crest. 

The sailor on the moonless sea. 

The pilgrim of the trackless plain, 
The bondman panting to be free, 

Turns northward and takes heart again ; 
For there, above unmeasured heights. 

An emblem of eternal truth. 
Unchanged amidst the changing lights. 

The North Star lifts her crown of youth. 

Self-centered in the boundless blue. 

Calm dweller of the vast unknown. 
Forever tender, strong and true, 

Serenely from her distant throne, 
She gazes down the voiceless deep, 

While worlds are drifting at her feet, 
And mighty constellations sweep 

Around her like an endless fleet. 

The Northern Lights across her fling 

The glory of their dancing spears. 
The Morning Stars beneath her sing 

The chorus of creation's years — 
And while the systems sink and rise, 

And planets to each other nod 
The light streams from her tranquil eyes 

As steadfast as the love of God. 



153 



SLEEP, ROBIN, SLEEP 

Sleep, Robin, sleep, 

While mother watches o'er you, 
And bright starry skies 

Bend o'er the sleeping land. 
Rest, birdie, rest; 

The world is all before yon. 
And pleasure and pain 

Go ever hand in hand. 

Sleep, Robin, sleep. 

With mother's wing above you. 
And soft angel eyes 

To guard your sleeping form. 
Rest, birdie, rest ; 

May angels ever love you, 
And walk by your side 

In sunshine and in storm. 

Chorus. 

Sleep, Robin, lullaby; 

Rest, birdie, lullaby; 
Sleep, sleep, Robin, lullaby. 



154 



MISSING 

Wandering brother, where art thou? 

On the land or on the sea? 
Art thou thinking of us now 

As we ever think of thee? 
Years have come and years have ilown, 

Forms have lost their youthful grace. 
Golden locks have silver grown 

Since we gazed upon thy face. 

Joys have risen, shone and set. 

Grief no longer brings surprise ; 
Does the old light linger yet 

In the azure of thine eyes? 
Care has hummed her minor song 

Down life's track of withered flowers, 
And the dearest of our throng 

Sing in sweeter strains than ours. 

Are thy lips forever dumb? 

Shall we hear thy voice no more? 
Must our meeting never come 

Till all parting here is o'er? 
All the garnered fruits of fame, 

All the garlands she may twine, 
I would give to hear my name 

Uttered in those tones of thine. 



155 



THE VOICE OF THE MOUNTAINS 

I saw the mountains stand 

Silent, wonderful and grand, 

Looking out across the land 

When the golden light was falling 

On distant dome and spire, 

And 1 heard a low voice calling, 

"Come up higher, come up higher; 

From the lowlands and the mire, 

From the mist of earth-desire. 

From the vain pursuit of pelf. 

From the attitude of self. 

Come up higiuT, ccmie up higher; 

Think not that we are cold, 

Though eternal snows have crowned us; 

Think not that we are old, 

Though the ages die around us ; 

Underneath our breasts of snow 

Silver fountains sing and flow ; 

We reflect the young day's bloom 

While the valleys sleep in gloom ; 

We receive the new born storms 

On our ragged, rock mailed forms. 

And restore the hungry lands 

With our rivers and our sands. 

"He who conquers inward foes 
All the pain of battle knows, 
And has earned his calm repose. 
Countless ?eons ere the races 
In the cycles took their places 
We were groaning to be free 
From our chains below the sea, 
Till we heard the sun — our sire — 
Calling, calling, 'come up higher,' 
And we burst our prison bars, 



156 



The Voice of the Mountains 

And from out the mist and fire, 
And the ocean's wild embraces, 
And the elemental wars. 
We arose and bathed our faces 
In the sunlight and the stars." 



167 



TWO LIVES 

There is a language of the soul 

That niorlals feel, but cannot see, 
Which none can fathom or control 

Save those who hold the dual key ; 
And two may touch unplighted hands 

And strive to loose that key in vain, 
While two that dwell in wedded bands 

In awful solitude remain. 

O hungry liearts that search through years 

For something missed, but never found! 
O lips that smile to hide the tears 

Of weary lives in fetters bound 
To those who fail them in the hour 

When soul and eye and lifted palm 
Are pleading for some hip;her power 

To guide them to the isles of calm ! 

They met when life and hope were new. 

As rills beside each other run, 
And, gliding on through grass and dew, 

Go singing to the golden sun. 
They came topcther in their course 

Without a dream of coming times, 
When, crossed by Fate's dividing force, 

Their paths should lead to separate climes. 

They parted on the rocky crest. 

No more to meet in faith's embrace: 
She drew the cypress to her breast. 

And shndows gathered in her face. 
He. like the torrent of the height, 

Poured out his life on th'rstv Innds; 
To dnrkencd lives he brought doliMit, 

And gave new strength to tired hands. 

1/58 



Tivo Li'ves 

The world upon his pathway biiuled, 

Yet in its crowds he walked alone; 
For he was Nature's birthright child. 

And she baptized him lor her own. 
To him her ancient hills were young, 

Tie felt her calms above her storms, 
Through Jiim her voiceless wonders sung, 

And shapeless things took souls and forms. 

The secret of the haunted pine. 

The midnight's soft and holy hush. 
The distant star, the lowly vine. 

The strains of mocking-bird and thrush. 
The morning on the mountain slope, 

The spirit of the ocean side, 
The hidden springs of pain and hope. 

Touched by his rhyme, were glorified. 

He sang of "home" he never knew, 

His bold words made the timid brave, 
The rich absorbed his light and dew, 

And barely thanked the life that gave. 
He lavished all the gifts he had 

To cheer his race and make it strong; 
And withered joys grew fresh and glad. 

Thrilled by the current of his song. 

She groped in shade toward the main, 

Where all the streams of time unite. 
He watered many a sunburnt plain, 

And blessed the world by day and night; 
And, while he wandered, toiled and sang, 

With heart of love and voice in tune. 
New hopes around his presence sprang, 

Like flowers around the feet of June. 



159 



Tivo Li'ves 

They move in lines more wide apart 

Than strangers who have never met, — 
One burtlened by a tronblcd lieart, 

One haunted by a vain regret. 
There stands between their hfe-ways now 

A mountain, broad and steep and high : 
The chifled snow Hes on its brow, 

And down its glens the low winds sigh. 

And just below the high divide 

I read this lesson — eold as fate, — 
■"Who wins the wide world for a bride 

Should never woo another mate." 
And then 1 hear an undertone 

Come floating from (he sunset sea, 
"Lo, here each stream shall find its own, 

And all be rec<Miciled in me." 

But sweet and clear and [)ure, and far 

Above the ocean's changing calls. 
And gentle as the morning star, 

This message from the mountain falls: 
"The life that peace inuuortal seeks 

Must rise o'er i)assion's ebb and flow; 
For none except the loftiest peaks 

Retain their shining crowns of snow." 



160 



/ WILL BE WITH YOU 

1 WILL be witli you when dayliglit is ending, 

And sunset's rare j^lories iiavc died on the plain, 

Wlien J^(jve's evening star from Iier llir(jne is descend- 
ing, 
To lave her swec-t face in the ftjaiii of the main. 

I will be with you when c<jld dews are falling, 

And song-birds have ceased to remember the day. 

When dark rolling waves througli the midnight are 
calling 
For stars to cfjme down and illumine the way. 

I will be with you when daylight is breaking, 

And dawn's tender promise is kindling the skies. 
When Love's morning star in the east is awaking 
With new liff and light in her bcautiftil eyes, 
I will be with you, 
1 will be with you, 
()u sea and shore, — 
1 will be with you, 
1 will be witli you, 
Forevermrjre. 



101 



THE MOCKING BIRD OF SAT ICO Y 

What was the song bird telling the world 

When day, with its sounds of joy, 
Had westward marched, with banners furled, 

From the hills of Saticoy? 
He sat in the dark magnolia tree 
While the mist came up from the twilight sea 
And sang his evening song to me. 

And these were the words I heard 

From the throat of the mocking bird : 

"I am singing the song my fathers sung 

When the sea v/as here and the hills were young, * 

And the surf leaped up to greet the sun 

Where the com now waves and the squirrels run. 

And the wild sea-mew and the gray gulls flew 

Close up to the feet of the mountains brown, 
When the sea v/as here and the hills were new. 

Ere the torrent bore their treasures down 
To bridge the bay with the fertile lands, 

Where the orange groves in gold and white 

Now lift their heads in the soft warm light, 
And the silver leaves of the olive shine, 
And the fields are decked with the fruitful vine, 
And the lofty eucalyptus stands 

Forever green in the traveler's sight — 
Where the rose tree blossoms the whole year round, 
And the hues of heaven new birth have found 
In the flowers that shine from the lowly ground." 

What was the song bird telling his mate. 

In a ripple of quiet joy. 
When the midnight moon — like the eye of Fate — 

Looked down on Saticoy? 
He sat by their nest in the cypress tree. 
Two leagues away from the silver sea, 



162 



The Mocking Bird of Saticoy 

And warbled low to his mate and me, 
And these are the words I heard 
From the heart of the mocking bird: 

"I am singing the song our fathers sang 

In the Aztec combats long ago. 
When the air was rent with the battle's clang 
And the Northern arrows rained and rang 

On the shields of the southward flying foe 
That fought in vain, then sank and died 
On the crimson plain and mountain side, 
And left no sign but the tell-tale grounds 
Where a race lies dead in a million mounds 
That dot the lands from the cold North Lakes 
To the clime where the wind of the Tropic shakes — 
O'er the grave of many a buried town — 
The fruit of the palm and fig tree down." 

But what was the song bird singing about 

In a chorus miad with joy, 
When the day came in and the stars went out 

O'er the slopes of Saticoy? 
He sat in the green acacia tree. 
Where the land looked out on the golden sea, 
And sang his sunrise song to me, 

And these were the words I heard 

From the soul of the mocking bird : 

"We are trilling the notes the birds shall trill, 
When men no longer scourge and kill, 
When the North and South and the East and West 
Shall draw their life from a common breast, 
When the Northern brain and the Northern will 
And the Southern heart and the Southern soul 
Shall together blend in a perfect whole 
Of the Nobler Race, whose blood shall roll 

163 



The Mocking Bird of Saticoy 

Forever free from the taint of crime, 
In that shining Age, whose morn subHme 
Appears on the distant verge of Time, 
Whose music floats on the early air 
Like an answer to a world's long prayer 
That man shall his 'brother's keeper' be, 

That the mark of Cain may be effaced, 
And the land, like the open air, be free. 

And the white rose bloom in the desert waste." 



164 



TURN TO ME THOU LONELY ONE 

"I in them, aud Thou in me." — St. John xvii:23. 

Turn to me, thou lonely one, 

Seek me in the night of woe 
As the flowers seek the sun — 

As the rivers seaward flow; 
Look on me, oh, look and live, 

Never more forsaken be, 
I have life and love to give 

And I freely give to thee. 

Chorus. 

Weep no more upon thy pillow, 
Drift no more with tide and billow, 
Leave the cypress and the willow, 
Tune thy harp and sing for me. 

Come and lean upon my breast 

Till the morning o'er thee streams ; 
Grief no more shall mar thy rest, 

Fear no more alarm thy dreams, 
Clouds may rise and billows roll, 

I will calm the storm and sea, 
Life to life and soul to soul, 

Thou henceforth shalt dwell with me. 

Chorus. 



165 



LET ME REST 

Let me rest on Thy bosom, I'm weary and lonely, 

The stars are all gone from my sight, 
Let me rest on Thy bosom, on Thine and Thine only, 
Till darkness gives place to the light, — 
My last joy is taken, 

My last hope is shaken. 
The wild waters over me roll, — 

My heart all forsaken 
Now turns to Thee only, 

The day-star and dawn of my soul. 

Chorus. 
Let me rest. Lord, 

Let me rest, Lord, 
Let me rest on Thy bosom, 

Let me rest, let me rest. 

Let me rest on Thy bosom, the world may bereave me. 

Thy love is my light and my stay ; 
Let me rest on the bosom that never will leave me, 
Tho' brother and friend turn away. 
In language unspoken, 
In silence unbroken, 
I bring all my trials and woes ; 

Thy word is a token 
That will not deceive mc 

Nor leave me alone with my foes. 

Chorus. 



166 



STAR OF MY SOUL 

I KNOW I cannot wander far from Thee, 

Star of my soul, — 
I feel Thy love forever guiding me, 

Star of my soul, — 
My mountain path may wild and lonely be, 
Or dark my track along the rolling sea, 
But on the height or on the wave, 
I feel Thee near to save. 

Chorus. 
Star of my soul — Star of my soul. 
Star of my soul, I call, I call to Thee, etc. 

The rosy light of life may turn to gray, 

Star of my soul, — 
And darkness wrap the golden springs of day, 

Star of my soul, — 
But Thou shalt never, never fade away, 
Though suns grow cold and shining worlds 
decay, 
Tn storm and gloom I know not fear, 
For Thou art always near. 

Chorus. 



167 



y4fter Sixty Tears 



THE PEOPLE'S BATTLE HYMN 

There's a sound of swelling waters, 
There's a voice from out the blue, 
Where the Master His arm is revealing, — 

Lo ! the glory of the morning 
Lights the forehead of the New, 
And the towers of Old Time are reeling, 

There is doubt within the temples 
Where the gods are bought and sold, 
They are leaving the false for the true way ; 

There's a cry of consternation 
Where the idols made of gold 

Are melting in the glance of the New day. 

Chorus. 

Lift high the banner. 
Break from the chain, 

Wake from the thralldom of story. 
Like the torrent to the river. 
The river to the main, 

Forward to Liberty and Glory! 

There is tramping in the cities, 

Where the people march along, 

And the trumpet of Justice is calling; 
There's a crashing of the helmet 

On the forehead of the Wrong, 

And the battlements of Babylon are falling. 
O ! the Master of the morning, 

How we waited for His light 

In the old days of doubting and fearing — 
How we watched among the shadows 

Of the long and weary night 

For His feet upon the mountains appearing. 



171 



The People's Battle Hymn 

He shall gather in the homeless 

He shall set the people free, 

He shall walk hand in hand with the toiler; 
He shall render back to labor 

From the mountains to the sea 

The lands that are bound by the spoiler. 
Let the lightning tell the story 

To the sea's remotest bands ; 

Let the camp fires of Freedom be flaming, 
While the voices of the heavens 

Join the chorus of the lands 

Which the children of men are proclaiming. 



172 



JUSTICE TO ''LIBERTY ENLIGHTENING THE 
WORLD'' 

O, Liberty! whose searching eyes 

Are fixed upon the distant blue — 
As if to pierce the veil that lies 

Betwixt the Old World and the New — 
What seekest thou in other climes, 

And isles that gem the salt sea foam? 
What findest thou of woes and crimes 

That dwell not in thy chosen home? 

Child of the rainbow and the star, 

Around whose path the whirlwind sings, 
Recall thine eagles from afar 

And answer to my questionings ! 
Call down thy colors from the clouds. 

And nail them o'er the city marts, 
And let thy beacon cheer the crowds 

Of darkened lives and weary hearts. 

"And what art thou? to question one 

Whose impulse every bosom warms, 
Whose eagles soar athwart the sun, 

And rock their young upon the storms ; 
And who art thou? to ask me why 

I stand upon the New World strands. 
And bid my eagles outward fly 

To probe the ills of other lands !" 

Men call me "Love" when — bending down — 

I kissed the tears from, sorrow's face. 
And "Mercy" when I change the frown 

Of judgment to a smile of grace ; 
They call me "Justice" when I shift 

The weak man's burdens to the strong. 
But "Vengeance" when my earthquakes lift 

The tidal waves that drown the wrong. 



173 



Justice to '* Liberty Enlightening the World' '^ 

I fix the headland bounds of Fate 

Against which Error frets in vain ; 
I watch by Truth's eternal gate, 

And balance every loss and gain ; 
I hover o'er the Lethean deep 

Where Progress mourns her murdered braves, 
I touch the waters where they sleep. 

And lo ! they wake from honored graves. 

The empty boasts of power and pelf 

Like fleeting vapors round me meet ; 
The star of destiny itself 

Climbs from the throne to reach my feet ; 
The nations poise upon my scales 

Like cloudlets on the midday air; 
I stand erect where Empire fails, 

And wait serene amidst despair. 

"O ! thou whose fire-winged word descends 

Like lightning from unclouded zones — 
At whose decree oppression ends, 

And despots tremble on their thrones — 
1 bow to thy divining life 

Which every perfect life fulfills ; 
My warring factions cease from strife, 

My thunders die among the hills. 

"Full well I know the deeds of shame 

That nations in my name have done, 
Whose record lingers on my fame 

Like spots upon the morning sun; 
But while my conquering legions stand 

With sabres sheathed and banners furled, 
Prav tell me of my chosen band 

Whose star and torch ilhuTie the world." 



174 



Jusike to ''Liberty Enlightening the World'' 

I see a land so broad and fair — 

So free from titled lords and kings — 
That all the tribes seek refuge there 

As young birds seek the mother wings; 
The fig-tree, orange, grape and palm 

Grow wild upon her southern plains, 
Where summer breezes drift in balm, 

And blooms caress the winter rains. 
The oceans of the east and west 

Along her borders laugh and roar; 
The mountains sleep upon her breast, 

And vast lakes down her north lines pour. 

I see a nation half in chains ; 

The mingled blood of all the earth 
Is surging through her fevered veins, 

And striving for a nobler birth ; 
The New World's warp, the Old World's web 

In all her garments come and go. 
While from her life the old taints ebb. 

And new ones rush with fiercer fllow; 
Her snowy sails, her keels and helms 

Go forth with stores of fruit and bread 
To all the kingdoms, climes and realms 

Where man is asking to be fed. 

Her star-crowned head proclaims the light 

That seers and poets long have sung; 
Her feet and skirts are wrapped in night 

Where Wrong is old and Hope is young; 
No more the lion treads her coast 

In war's red pomp and force arrayed ; 
He leads a far more cruel host 

That plunders by the laws of trade. 



175 



Justice to *' Liberty Enlightening the World' ^ 

Her soldier band, whose sabre stroke 

Released from bonds four million lives, 
Are weighted by a usurer's yoke 

More galling than the black man's gyves ; 
Though gone the auction block of old. 

The soul of slavery lingers still, 
The chains are forged of power and gold 

To bind the white serf's brain and will. 

The poor man — robbed of lands he earned — 

Goes wandering homeless o'er the moor; 
And eagles, into vultures turned, 

Stand guard beside the rich man's door; 
The masses move with fettered feet ; 

The classes feast on Labor's toil ; 
The eagles with the lions meet, 

To gather and divide the spoil. 

I am not blind ; I see and feel. 

While Mammon rules the broad domain, 
And stretches forth his hand to steal 

The garnered sheaves of ripened grain. 
I am not deaf, I am not dead, 

Though Mercy groans in travail pain. 
While chartered Murder rears its head. 

And children wail for fathers slain. 

No longer shall my arm be stayed. 

No more my trumpet call retreat 
When Truth, by lying lips betrayed. 

Is dragged before the judgment seat ; 
The line is crossed ; the doom draws nigh ; 

Lo ! Justice wakes with lifted hand 
To write her mandate in the sky, 

And not upon the shifting sand. 



176 



Justice to ** Liberty Enlightening the World'' 

"But Justice, listen; and behold; 

My star upon the darkness gleams, 
My upraised torch has not grown cold; 

The world is moaning in her dreams; 
In dreams of grander conflicts won, 

She yearns for freedom, light and air; 
And can the child of Washington 

Be dumb to her unanswered prayer?" 

The ages cannot pause to wait 

The counter-moves of Mammon's hoard, 
While Labor lingers at the gate 

To beg the crumbs from Dives' board ! 
The world shall onward, sunward swing 

Till torch and star are merged in light. 
And all the nations rise and sing 

Their triumph o'er the powders of night. 

I see a mighty feast outspread. 

Where gilded lords their honors wear ; 
The banquet king sits at their head ; 

The guests are drunk on vintage rare; 
And far below on every side, 

No more by cringing fear subdued, 
And murmuring like a rising tide, 

I see the countless multitude. 

As rivers to the ocean roll. 

All tongues and races join the throng, 
One purpose burning in each soul, 

And on their lips a single song ; 
One common cause, one flag unfurled. 

They kneel to neither king nor clan ; 
Their country is the round, wide world ; 

Their creed the brotherhood of man. 



177 



Justice to ''Liberty Enlightening the World' ^ 

The feast goes on; the proud rejoice; 

They hear a sound of distant waves; 
They think it but the torrent's voice 

Complaining through the highland caves ; 
It is no mountain stream, that leaps 

Rebellious of its rocky bands ; 
It is the lifting of the deeps, 

The sinking of the ancient lands. 

Resistless as the pulse of doom, 

The ocean swings from shore to shore; 
And frightened kings flit through the gloom, 

Like stars that fall to rise no more. 
The high sea-v/alls of caste are gone; 

The pent-up floods their chains have burst ; 
The toilers face the golden dawn : 

The first are last, the last are first. 

The Old goes down, the New ascends; 

Its sunny isles in glory rise ; 
A rainbow o'er the deluge bends, 

And Labor's curse dissolves and dies ; 
The gods of gold no more hold sway; 

The people bow to truth alone, 
And He whose voice the tides obey 

Remains forever with His own. 



178 



A FRAGMENT 

Go plant within the self-same day 

Two germs, alike in form and size, 
And leave them, till some future day, 

With years of rains and genial skies, 
And winds that wander east or west, 

And one shall grow a fruitful tree 
Where pilgrims pause for food and rest, 

And song-birds come to build their nest, 
And one a thorny shrub shall be. 



179 



FREEDOM'S REVEILLE 

The time has passed for idle rest; 

Columbia, from your slumber rise! 
Replace the shield upon your breast, 

y\nd cast the veil from off your eyes, 
And view your torn and stricken fold — 

By prowling wolves made desolate — 
Your honor sold for alien gold 

By traitors in your halls of state. 

Our mothers wring their fettered hands; 

Our sires fall fainting by the way ; 
The Lion robs them of their lands, 

The Eagle guards them to betray ; 
Shall they who kill through craft and greed 

Receive a brand less black than Cain's? 
Shall paid "procurers" of the deed 

Still revel in their Judas gains? 

O daughter of the matchless Sire, 

Whose valor made your name sublime, 
Whose spirit, like a living fire, 

Lights up the battlements of Time, — 
The "VVorld's sad heart, with pleading moan, 

Breaks at your feet — as breaks the main, 
In ceaseless prayer from zone to zone — 

And shall it plead and break in vain? 

Fling off that garb of golden lace 

That knaves have spun to mask your form 
And let the lightning from your face 

Gleam out upon the gathering storm — 
That awful face whose silent look 

Swept o'er the ancient thrones of kings. 
And like the bolts of Sinai shook 

The base of old established things. 

180 



Freedom's Reveille 

The promise of an age to be 

Has touched with gold the mountain mist, 
Its white fleets plow the morning sea, 

Its flag the morning star has kissed. 
But still the martyred ones of yore, 

Whom tyrants to the scaffold led — 
Transfigured now forevermore — 

Gaze backward o'er the ages dead : 

And ask : "How long, O Lord ! How long 

Shall creeds conceal Thy human side, 
And Christ the God be crowned in song 

While Christ the Man is crucified? 
How long shall Mammon's tongue of fraud 

At Freedom's Prophets wag in sport, 
While chartered murder stalks abroad, 

Approved by Senate, Church and Court?" 

The strife shall not forever last 

'Twixt cunning Wrong and passive Truth — 
The blighting demon of the past, 

Chained to the beauteous form of Youth — 
The Truth shall rise, its bonds shall break. 

Its day with cloudless glory burn, 
The Right with Might from slumber wake. 

And the dead Wrong to dust return. 

The long night wanes ; the stars wax dim ; 

The young day looks through bars of blood ; 
The air throbs with the breath of Him 

Whose pulse was in the Red sea flood ; 
And flanked by mountains, right and left, 

The people stand — a doubting horde — 
Before them heave the tides uncleft, 

Behind them flashes Pharaoh's sword. 



181 



Freedom's Reveille 

But lo ! the living God controls, 

And marks the bounds of slavery's night, 
And speaks through all the dauntless souls 

That live or perish for the right. 
His Face shall light the people still, 

His hand shall cut the sea in twain 
And sky and wave and mountain thrill 

To Miriam's triumphant strain. 



183 



THE FALL OF NEW BABYLON 

"Be still, and know that I am God !" 

This message tell distinct and low, 
While wealth, with steel and iron sliod, 

Crushea out the cries of want and woe; 
And from the scourged and bleeding throng. 

As if to end the age-long tryst, 
With eyes rebuking gilded Wrong, 

Shone forth the wondrous face of Christ. 

Man heeded neither voice nor look — 

For Mammon s vampires asked for blood — 
And what were signs and omens took 

The forms of conflict, flame and flood; 
The tempest down the mountains whirled; 

The hghtnings danced among the crags: 
And far below the breakers curled 

And raised on high their battle-flags. 

The ocean's heart with angry beats — 

Swayed by the earthquake's fiery breath — 
Uplifted cities, troops and fleets 

And hurled them down to wreck and death ; 
Then rose the death-yell of the Old — 

The old, dark Age of ruthless gain. 
Of crouching thieves and warriors bold 

Who slew the just and robbed the slain. 

For he who led the hordes of Night — 

The Monarchs of marauding bands — 
W^ent down before the Sword of Light 

That flashed upon the plundered lands ; 
And stretched upon his mighty bier. 

With broken helm.et on his head, 
And hands still clutching brand and spear. 

The King at last lay prone and dead, 



183 



The Fait of Ne<iv Babylon 

The birds of conquest o'er him swooped 

In baffled rage and terror wild ; 
The silent Fates around him s.ooped 

To deck with flowers their fallen child; 
And where the powers of shore and wave 

Together clashed in border wars, 
With systems piled upon his grave, 

They left the meteor-son of Mars. 

The cruel rule of craft and pelf 

Had vanished like a midnight pall ; 
The cold, hard motto, "Each for Self," 

Had melted into "Each for All," 
For every human ear and heart 

Had heard the message, "Peace, be still !" 
And sought through Freedom's highest art 

For oneness with the Perfect Will. 

The star of strife had ceased to reign, 

And Venus woke with tender grace 
Between the lids of sky and main 

And smiled upon a nobler race ; 
And as a brute foregoes its prize 

And cowers before the gaze of day, 
With backward look from baleful eyes 

The wolf of Usury slunk away. 

From ocean rim to mountain height 

All Nature sang of glad release ; 
The waters danced in wild delight 

And waved a million flags of peace ; 
For he who held the world in thrall 

Through greed and fraud and power of gold, 
Had seen the "writino- on the wall," 

And died like Babvlon's King- of old. 



184 



FRATERNITY 

If man would love his brother man 

Like Him who died to seal the Truth, 
And live like Him one mortal span, 

Old mother Earth would find her youth 
The race would clasp the hands of heaven 

And souls would feel their fetters riven. 
And rising, leave their crimes behind, 

Until the sense of sins forgiven 
Would flash like light from mind to mind: 

As when the world awakes from rest. 
And morning greets the billowy main. 

The glow is caught from crest to crest, 
The tidings leap from deep to deep, 

Till one by one around the world 
The sable flags of night are furled 

And every sea becomes a plain 
Of dancing fire, and gladness thrills 

The faces of the rocks and hills, 
And listening woodland, vale and lake 

The silence of their slumber break, 
And all the harps of Nature play 

The chorus of the new-born day. 



185 



OLD GLORY 

Thou art i^reedum's child, Old Glory, 
Born of Freedom's high desire, 
Nursed amid the little's ire, 
Tried by thundcrboh and lire. 
On the field and on tiie tide, 
Where our heroes, side by side, 
Tollowed thee and fought and died 
Gazing on thy stars. Old Glory. 

We will stand by thee, Old Glory, 
On the lands and on the waves, 
For our babes and for our graves, 
Though we stand or fall as slaves. 
tor thy stars are not to blame 
For the treason, fraud and shame 
That pollute thy holy name 
In our halls of state, Old Glory. 

Knaves have stolen thee, Old Glory, 
For their Babylonian bowers ; 
From their festal walls and towers 
Droops the flag that once was ours ; 
O'er their crime thy beauty trails. 
And the old-time answer fails 
When from chain-gangs, courts and jails 
Men appeal to thee. Old Glory. 

Be our shield once more, Old Glory! 
Lo! the world in travail \)^\n 
Turns and pleads to thee in vain 
While through plundered vale and plain, 

Stripped and bruised by licensed thieves, 
.Starving, begging for her sheaves 
Outcast Labor tramps ?nd grieves, 
Witli no help from thee, Old Glory. 



180 



Old Glory 

We will rescue thee, Old Glory ! 
Bloodless may the process be. 
Peaceful as the yearning sea 
Anchored to the windless lee, — 
But if peace cannot avail, 
Welcome tidal wave and gale, 
Welcome lightning fllame and hail 
Till the very stars turn pale 
In the grander light, Old Glory. 

If it must be so, Old Glory — 
If bhnd error smite with force 
Truth and justice at their source. 
Suns and planets in their course — 
Let the earthquake lift the deep. 
Let the wild floods wake from sleep ; 
Let the crouching Terrors leap. 
And where God's own toilers reap 
We will carry thee. Old Glory. 



187 



OUR BABYLON 

Oh ! the towers of Babylon are rare 

And the tinkling fountains play 
Over gardens hung in the drowsy air. 
Where the careless youths and maidens fair 

Are dreaming the years away; 
And the kings of Babylon are bold, 

For the realms before them fall. 
And they rule the world from thrones of gold 
While the people's lives are bought and sold 

Like the herds in the butcher's stall. 

Oh ! the towers of Babylon are strong, 

And their dungeons damp and deep, — 
And the rich rejoice in the reign of wrong. 
And the princes join in the revelers' song 

While the toilers tramp and weep, — 
But stern and still, like a troop of Fates, 

'Round the city's roar and din, 
The invading host of the conqueror waits 
In the midnight hush outside the gates 

As the feast goes on within. 

And the walls of Babylon are high. 

And their arches grim and low, 
And the birds of commerce scream and fly 
While the proud Euphrates wanders by 

In its wild relentless flow, — 
But the river that rolls in Mammon's pride 

Shall the people's servant be — 
By the toiler's will shall be turned aside 
And the channel surge with a grander tide 

Than the pulse of the Persian sea. 



188 



DAWN ON MOUNT LOWE 

Looking southward to the sunlands, 

On the ocean's ebb and flow, 
Keeping watch o'er Echo Mountain, 

Dwells the spirit of Mount Lowe — 
In the glowing light of noonday, 

In the midnight calm and lone. 
Gazing outward from the summit 

Like a ruler from his throne. 

At his feet sits Pasadena, 

Framed with fields of fruit and grain 
Where the valley of San Gabriel 

Slopes in beauty to the main — 
Pasadena, decked with roses 

And with gems of gold and green, 
Resting on the landscape's forehead 

Like a crown upon a Queen. 

And the "City of the Angels," 

On her hills of bronze and gold. 
Stands amidst her groves of olives 

Like Jerusalem of old ; 
With the purple Sierra Madras 

Smiling downward from the dawn. 
As Mount Hermon smiled on Zion, 

In the ages that are gone. 

West and south the blue Pacific, 

Hemmed with surf and fringed with spray, 
Bathes in floods of molten silver 

Headland, island, beach and bay; 
East and north the inland deserts. 

With their ever-sh'fting sands — 
More unstable than the waters — 

Fade in distant mountain lands. 



189 



Daivn on Mount Loive 

Oh ! that vision of the sunlands 

Where the skies are ever fair, 
And the Autumn woos the Winter 

With young rosebuds in her hair — 
Where the orange blooms forever 

And its leaf is never sear, 
And the mocking bird is singing 

To his mate the livelong year. 

It has haunted me in slumber, 

It has gleamed and throbbed again 
In my solitary musings. 

And in crowded throngs of men ; 
Like a vanished revelation 

Floats the memory back to me 
Of that dawn upon the mountain 

'Twixt the desert and the sea. 



190 



''ALL FOR ONE AND ONE FOR ALU' 

All for one and one for all, 

With an endless song and sweep, 
So the billows rise and fall 

On the bosom of the deep ; 
Louder in their single speech. 

More resistless as they roll, 
Broader, higher in their reach 

For their union with the whole. 

Wheeling systems sink and rise, 

In one shoreless universe. 
And forever down the skies 

Myriad stars one hymn rehearse ; 
Countless worlds salute the sun. 

Planets to each other call, 
Ages into cycles run, 

All for one and one for all. 

Kissed by sunshine, dew and shower. 

Leaping rill and living sod, 
Sea and mountain, tree and flower. 

Turn their faces up to God ; 
And one human brotherhood. 

Pulsing through a thousand lands. 
Reaches for one common good 

With its million, million hands. ' 

Through all warring seas of life 

One vast current sunward rolls, 
And within all outward strife, 

One eternal Right controls — 
Right, at whose divine command 

Slaves go free and tyrants fall. 
In the might of those who stand 

All for one and one for all. 



191 



THE INNER VOICE 

I HEARD a voice, distinct and near, 

Appealing to my inward ear, 
So near and low, so clear and far, 

'Twas like the influence of a star 
That from its sparkling dome in space 

Descends to earth with humble grace, 
When lamps are gone and winds are still, 

To seek the wayside pool or rill, 
And there in lines of light to trace 

The likeness of its tender face 
That mortal man may seek and find 

God's image in the lowliest mind. 
'The voice in sweetness died away, 

But echoes still through calm and strife 
The star dissolved in dawning day. 

But left its lesson on my life. 



192 



THE OLD AGE DIES 

We met six thousand years ago 

On India's storied mountain heights. 
Six thousand years of bliss and woe 

And sunHt days and starry nights 
Like passing ships have come and gone 

Along the silent sea of space 
Since first your eyes upon me shone, 

Since first I looked upon your face. 

But still survives within my soul 

The memory of scenes sublime, 
Though shoreless deeps of ether roll 

Between me and that far-ofif time ; 
And often in my dreaming hours 

Old landscapes on my vision rise, 
And through the sheen of stars and showers 

Vast mountains loom from out the skies. 

Four thousand years ago we called 

The stars by name from Shinar's plain. 
While Tigris and Euphrates crawled 

Like yellow serpents to the main ; 
Before the Sun-God's temple made 

Its awful shadow on the land 
Or Ninevah's firm base was laid 

By Nimrod's all-prevailing hand. 

And where the desert sands now drift. 

And prowling things the daylight shun, 
We saw the Tower of Babel lift 

Its spiral pathway to the sun 
Ere Babylon, with gardens hung, 

And walls that spanned the mighty stream. 
Had from the age-long travail sprung 

And faded like a splendid dream. 



193 



The Old Age Dies 

Two thousand years rolled on, and then, 

Upon the ships of Galilee, 
We saw the kingly Man of men 

Subdue the tempest and the sea; 
We^ saw llim strong to heal and save. 

To calm the spirit's inner strife. 
We saw Ilim weep beside the grave 

And bring the loved and lost to life. 

The outcast, humbled by her shame. 

And frozen by a cold world's frown, 
In burning tears before llim came 

And laid her sins and burdens down; 
And timid babes, with hearts unsealed, 

Surrendered to His touch and look. 
As tender lilies of the field 

Reflect their forms in Kedron's brook. 

Yet He who lived without a flaw. 

And gave to man the Law of Laws, 
Between two breakers of the law 

Was hung and murdered without cause ; 
Thus, in the strength and bloom of youth, 

And manhood's morning light. He fell. 
Pierced by the hands that lose the truth 

While clinging to the broken shell. 

And though He fell before their creeds — 

The Master of all martyrs slain — 
He fell as fall the deathless seeds 

That sink in earth to rise again, — 
To rise a countless million fold, 

Like conquering Icqions from the tomb, 
With lifted palms and fruits of gold 

In fields of everlastincr bloom. 



194 



The Old Age Dies 

The Old Age dies, — the cycle turns 

Upon the New its pleading face, 
The spirit of the same Christ yearns, 

With sheltering wings, to shield the race; 
And voices from the wilderness 

Proclaim His kingdom near at hand 
Who comes with power to scourge or bless 

The Stewards of His plundered land. 

The spoiler, crouching in his den 

Glares out upon the dying night. 
As in the wakened souls of men 

New hopes, like song-birds, greet the light. 
No longer shall the truth sit dumb 

While martyrs bear their cross alone, — 
The harvest time at last has come 

When right with might shall mount the throne. 

The shepherd with his flock ascends. 

The reaper moves upon the corn, 
The grain before the sickle bends. 

The wolf shrinks cowering from the morn ; 
But slowly up the world's far West, 

With lightning flashing from his shield, 
And thunders muttering in his breast 

The storm-king marches to the field. 

The walls of ancient Error shake 

Above the earthquake's smothered roar. 
And tides of retribution break 

With sullen boom on every shore, — 
But they who build upon the rock, 

And not upon the shiftinpf sand, 
Unharmed shall meet the battle's shock. 

And storm, and tidal wave withstand. 



195 



The Old Age Dies 

And somewhere on the Great Divide, 

Where systems part to meet no more. 
We shall be striving side by side — 

As in the ages gone before — 
For Him who comes with love's pure flame 

To burn the false and test the true, 
While tongues innumerable proclaim : 

"The Old Age dies, — long live the New." 

(To B. O. Flower, the moral hero and tender and faithful friend.) 



196 



THE LIVING CHRIST 

The Son of Alan appears once more — 

The Christ who taught in GaHlee 
Proclaims His truth on every shore 

And walks the waves of every sea ; 
Unsullied by the taint of bribes 

He challenges the proud and great, 
Rebuking Pharisees and scribes 

Who guard the doors of church and state. 

He comes in signs, He "comes in clouds" 

Whose hidden lightnings bide their time ; 
He wanders homeless in the crowds. 

That Mammon drives to want and crime; 
I see Him stripped and bleeding lie 

Beside the road to Jericho, 
Where lordly bishops pass Him by, 

As in the ages long ago. 

! Christ, the tender, loving One 

In whom all deathless graces blend, — 
The goal to which the cycles run 

In spiral paths to one vast end ; 
As torrents in their courses turn 

To mingle with the Mother-Breast, 
All tongues and tribes and nations yearn 

For what is found in Thee expressed. 

O ! constant, patient Heart of Life, 

Whose w^arm pulse beats for all the zones. 

While men still waste their powers in strife 
For gods of gold and petty thrones, — 

1 hear Thy voice amidst the roar 

Of trade and war on land and sea. 
Repeat this message o'er and o'er: 
"Take up the cross and follow Me." 



197 



The Living Christ 

I see Thee smitten by Thy foes 

In courts of law and noisy marts. 
While virtue from Thy presence flows 

In healing streams to wounded hearts ; 
I see a drowsy priesthood — met 

In solemn form to watch and pray — 
Who slumber while in bloody sweat 

Their Master waits the dawn of day. 

I see those sad, reproving eyes 

Still search the cringing Peters through, 
And One whom Pilate justifies 

Rejected by the church anew. 
Again the robber is released, 

The saint to crucifixion doomed, 
Again the Caesar and the priest 

Conspire to keep the Lord entombed. 

Again the surplice hangs revealed 

Behind the warrior's cassocked head. 
Again the sepulchre is sealed 

Where -'ustice sleeps but is not dead; 
But who can stay the awful birtli 

Of Truth from out the age-long night? 
Though all the armies of the earth 

Their legions hurl against the Light. 

As rock-mailed shores submissive throw 

Their armors down upon the strand. 
And towering summits plumed with snow 

Obey at last the tide's command. 
So Thou, O Christ! witli love sublime 

Shalt draw all races to Thy breast, 
And all the warring things of Time 

Shall turn to Thee at last for rest. 

(Dedicated to Prof. George D. Herron.) 

198 



MESSAGE GF MOUNT LOWE''- 

We were born of the earthquake, the mist and the fire. 

And rocked and baptized in the foam of the brine — 
The Earth is our Iviother, the Sun is our Sire, 

And the planets at night on our bosoms redine : 
The Earth is our Mother — we lean on her breast 

When the full moon awakes on her outermost rim, 
And the shield of our father lies low in the west. 

And his eyelids have closed and his glory waxed 
dim. 

When the world was unsullied by hatred and strife. 

Ere the plunder and slaughter of war had begun — 
Ere man had come forth from the Fountains of 
Life — 
We were turning our gaze to the stars and the 
sun — 
And as Teachers and Toilers and Builders with God, 
We were weaving the warp and the v^^eb of the 
Lands, 
And the valleys and plains that the races have trod. 
In their ebb and their fiow, are the v/ork of our 
hands. 

The cycles crept on, wnth their seasons and days — 

Those shuttles that play in the Infinite Loom — 
And our Mother rejoiced in her lover's fond gaze. 

And her being responded in gladness and bloom, 
Till the hungry invaders and pillagers came 

With instincts of heaven and passions of hell. 
And our bare hands were lifted in protest and shame 

While m.illions in conflict and agony fell. 

We were tired of the clashing of saber and spear, 
So we opened our lips to the Powers above. 

And prayed for some Hero of Truth to appear 
And plant on our rummits the emblem of Love. 

199 



Message of Mount Lo-we 

He came not with cannon and red battle flags, 
In the vauntings of might and the spirit of war, 

Yet the lightnings and torrents leaped down from our 
crags 
To be harnessed as helpers and steeds to his car. 

The steeds had been tamed by the touch of his hand, 

And well knew the lesson the master had taught. 
And bent to their task at the word of command 

To capture a realm with the chariots of Thought ; 
And we, who the thunders of Time have defied 

Since our rule o'er the lowlands and waters began — • 
And we, who to commerce our gates have denied, 

Surrender at last to the genius of man. 

Still, with feet to the desert and ocean we rise — 

And with faces upturned in the stillness profound, 
And worlds looking down with their wonderful eyes, 

And clouds like white garments encircling us 
round. 
We question the dawn, as we silently kneel, 

And lo ! by the light of the Orient's face, 
A Prophet approaches whose wand shall unseal 

The secrets tliat sleep in the bosom of space. 

His soul has communed with the souls of the Seers, 
Whose dreams with the Thought of the Infinite 
blend — 
His life is in tune with the Harp of the spheres, 
And Ho talks with tlic planets as friend talks with 

friend; 
And from treasures and tribute of forest and mine, 

And stone that are quarried from canyon and glen, 
Arises a Temple — an altar divine. 

Where the stars shall come down and hold council 
with men. • 

200 



Message of Mount Loive 

The ages shall roll, with their decades and years — 

Those pages and leaves in the volume of Time, 
Whose records are written in smiles or in tears, 

Or painted in shadows, or symbols sublime — 
And the children of men shall the story recount 

Of victory won o'er the gods of the Heights, 
While pilgrims ascend to our shrine on the Mount 

To be led by the stars to the "Father of Lights." 



[♦The Sierra Madre is a noble range of mountains in South California, 
near I,os Angeles and Pasadena. It rises from the San Gabriel Valley 
to an altitude of 6,000 feet. 

Prof. T. ,S. C. Lowe is the genius referred to in the poem, who pro- 
jected and built the mountain railway which penetrates the deep canyons 
and surmounts the cliffs of the range which culminates in Mount I,owe. 

Dr. Lewis Swift, the eminent astronomer who presides over the 
lyOwe Observatory, located on Echo Mountain, is the seer of the poeui] 



201 



SANTA CATALINA 

Have you seen blue Catalina 

On the western billows rise? 
Like the palm of Lost Atlantis 

Turned in protest to the skies; 
Have you heard that low wail breaking 

Night and day along the shore? 
Like the moan of Lost Atlantis 

For the years that are no more. 

Have you heard that weird tradition, 

Handed down through cycles gone? 
Of a realm that rose and flourished 

In creation's golden dawn ; 
How it blent the warring instincts 

Born of heaven, earth, and hell. 
Towered in selfish aspiration, 

Spurned the Law of Love, and fell. 

When the sun-god sank to slumber 

On the bosom of the world 
He beheld ten thousand banners 

From their battlements unfurled — 
When he woke from troubled visions 

On his bed of brown and gold 
Lo ! a wild, tumultuous ocean 

O'er his buried Empire rolled. 

Far below yon smiling surface 

Where the white-winged navies ride, 
Through the sun-god's sunless temple 

Unclean things and monsters glide ; 
And they smite and slay each other 

In their moods of fierce unrest, 
Circling round a golden image 

Fallen prone on face and breast. 



202 



Santa Catatina 

High above those ruins haunted 

By the fiends of endless shade, 
Cleaving through the upper currents, 

Move the ships of war and trade ; 
And they smite and rend each other, 

Filling earth with pain and woe, 
Praying to one God above them, 

Living for one god below. 

Still blue Catalina rises 

Like a hand from out the waves — 
Linking races that are living 

With the races in their graves ; 
And her wild goats pause to hearken 

On the rugged mountain sides, 
As if listening for the signals 

From the old Atlantian guides. 



203 



A VOICE IN THE NIGHT 

I HAVE come, and the world shall be shaken 

Like a reed at the touch of my rod, 
And the kingdoms of Time shall awaken 

To the voice and the summons of God ; 
No more through the din of the ages 

Shall warnings and chidings divine, 
From the lips of my prophets and sages. 

Be trampled like pearls before swine. 

Ye have stolen my lands and my cattle ; 

Ye have kept back from labor its meed ; 
Ye have challenged the outcasts to battle, 

When they plead at your feet in their need ; 
And when clamors of hunger grew louder. 

And the multitudes prayed to be fed, 
Ye have answered with prisons or powder 

The cries of your brothers for bread. 

I turn from your altars and arches, 

And the mocking of steeples and domes, 
To join in the long, weary marches 

Of the ones ye have robbed of their homes ; 
I share in the sorrows and crosses 

Of the naked, the hungry and cold. 
And dearer to me are their losses 

Than your gains and your idols of gold. 

I will wither the might of tlie spoiler; 

I will laugh at your dungeons and locks ; 
The tyrant shall yield to the toiler. 

And your judges eat grass like an ox; 
For the prayers of the poor have ascended 

To be written in lightnings on hi<rh, 
And the wails of your captives have blended 

With the bolts that must leap from the sky. 

204 



A Voice in the Night 

The thrones of your kings shall be shattered 

And the prisoner and serf shall go free ; 
I will harvest from seed that I scattered 

On the borders of the blue Galilee; 
For I come not alone and a stranger — 

Lo ! my reapers will sing through the night 
Till the star that stood over the manger 

Shall cover the world with its light. 



205 



A VISION OF LOST ATLANTIS 

In the mystic spell of slumber, 

Through the sea's unfathomed gloom, 
I beheld the lost Atlantis 

Burst the silence of her tomb ; 
And the grave-clothes that confined her 

In the bonds of age-long sleep 
By her hands were rent asunder 

As she rose from out the deep. 

I could see her gleaming rivers 

Down the winding valleys run. 
Where the olive groves and vineyards 

Drank the kisses of the sun ; 
I could see vast mountain ranges 

On her skies their glories trace, — 
Winters wrapped around their shoulders, 

Summers blooming at their base. 

In the measure of a heart-beat. 

In the twinkling of an eye, 
I beheld her mighty cities 

Lift their battlements on high, 
And her strong, triumphant armies, 

Which the very gods defied, 
Marching to the field of battle 

In their arrogance and pride. 

Oh, the princes of that kingdom, — 

How they ruled on land and sea ! 
How they spurned the God of justice, 

And to Baal bent the knee ! 
And they reared a golden Image 

In the grandest of their marts, 
And the incense that ascended 

Rose from ruined homes and hen.rts. 



206 



A Vision of Lost Atlantis 

And the one word that the Image 

Uttered day and night was "Give!" 
Till the people only answered : 

"Grant us work that we may live." 
But the rulers babbled: "Business," 

As they revelled at their ease, 
And they locked up Nature's storehouse, 

And to thieves consigned the keys. 

And the wolves of want went prowling 

Round the cabins of the poor. 
While the toilers starved and perished 

On the highway and the moor; 
For the few claimed all the increase 

From the ocean, soil, and air, — 
Precious stones and gems and metals, 

Flocks and grain and fruitage rare. 

Still the multitude paid tribute 

To the miser in his den, 
Still the Shylock knife was sharpened 

For the fiesh and blood of men ; 
Crafty minds, like human spiders, 

Weavino- traps for human flies. 
Veiled with webs of legal pretense — 

Things that all men know were lies. 

And the victims fell by millions 

Under land and chattel bond, 
Driven from God's soil like lepers 

By the usurer's magic wand. 
Till the army of the homeless 

Gathered like a rising flood. 
And the cry went up at midnight, 

"Give us bread or give us blood !" 

207 



A Vision of Lost Atlantis 

And the gathering flood dimbed higher 

Till it struck the palace door 
And awoke the royal sleepers 

With its wild, devouring roar. 
There are tigers in the jungle 

That delight in human prey, 
But a fiercer tiger crouches 

In a starving man at bay. 

And the rulers and the robbers, 

Though they quailed with inward dread, 
Answered back in bold derision, 

"Give them blood instead of bread!" 
And I saw the moon blush crimson, 

And beneath the weird eclipse 
Sat and rode the "scarlet woman," 

With a sneer upon her lips. 

There was gathering of the legions 

At the mandate of their queen. 
And the flashing of a million 

Blades lit up the awful scene, — 
And a million starving toilers 

Fell like blighted stalks of grain 
In that horrid midnight harvest, 

By their sons and brothers slain. 

There are crimes that stir with horror 

Saints and angels round the throne. 
And whose judgments can be meted 

By the courts of God alone : — 
And I saw the kingdom sinking 

At the scarlet woman's feet. 
And her splendid cities plunging 

Like a tempest-foundered fleet. 



208 



A Vision of Lost Atlantis 

Mountain ranges met and melted, 

And above the fiery tomb 
Two great oceans swung together 

Like the closing gates of doom. 
And I heard a voice proclaiming 

Down the solemn aisles of space 
"He who slays a starving brother 

Smites his Maker in the face." 



209 



THE CITY OF THE CLOUDS 

It leans on Sierra Madre's breast, 

It gleams from Echo Mountain's crest, 

That city of the clouds. — 
It dwells serene — while far below 
The wheels of commerce come and go 
And busy feet move to and fro — 

That city of the clouds. 

When Venus views with eyes of love, 
And scattered cloudlets drift above 

That city of the clouds, 
Far swinging down the great incline 
The isles behold the search-light shine 
And hail from out the blue sea brine 

That city of the clouds. 

When planets flash their golden lights 
Upon that jewel of the heights — 

That city of the clouds — 
Another search-light points on high* 
To hail the bright ships of the sky 
Which through the upper deep sail by 

That city of the clouds. 

The rich and poor come there to dwell, 
The sick and weary love it well — 

That city of the clouds ! 
Its arms embrace all beauteous things. 
Trees, rocks and flowers and flowing springs. 
And song-birds seek with grateful wings 

That city of the clouds. 



*The great telescope in Mt. I,owe Observatory. 



210 



The City of the Clouds 

Though Winding storms may sometimes rise 
And veil thy glory from our eyes, 

Fair city of the clouds ! 
We know where thy foundations stand, 
We know thy builder's brain and hand 
Reared thee on rock and not on sand, 

O ! city of the clouds I 

He saw with faith's prophetic eye, 
He scaled the steep and built on high 

A city of the clouds; 
He toiled for years the long days through, 
From rising sun to falling dew, — 
He builded grander than he knew 

That city of the clouds. 

We see his face in every flower, 

His strong heart throbs in all thy power, 

O ! city of the clouds ! 
In canyon, trail, and sylvan grove 
His life with thine is interwove — 
Thou art his last and cherished love, 

O ! city of the clouds ! 

The painter's art thy charms shall limn. 
While future bards shall sing of him — 

O ! city of the clouds ; 
"It was no lust for pelf or place 
That moved his royal soul to trace 
That epic for a nobler race — 

That citv of the clouds." 



211 



THE WORLD OF TRADE 

O ! A GLORIOUS realm is the world of Trade 

Where every craft is a ship of war, 
And every crew is a robber band 

Against all other bands arrayed ; 
Where the broadsides thunder near and far, 

And the wrecks are hurled to a friendless strand- 
Where the Syndicate and its "Admiral," 

And the "Commodore" of the City Bank, 
And the "Captain Bold ' of the wholesale store 

Go down alike in the battle's hell. 
Or together walk the pirate's plank, 

To sail on the treacherous seas no more — 

Where no life-boat to the rescue flies, 

But the wreckers light their luring fires, 

And bide their time like the birds of prey 
That strike till the victim wounded lies 

And in helpless agony expires, 

While his flesh is torn on the broad highway. 

The man who met with the ancient thieves 

On the lonely road to Jericho, 
Was a luckier man than the travelers now 

When the lawyers steal what the bandit leaves, 
And the priest and the Levite come and go 

Among the thieves with a smile and bow. 



212 



JAMIE'S LULLABY SONG 

Mother's birdling of the hills, 
Can you sing a song for me, 
While the woodland singer trills 

To his mate upon the tree; 
Sing while the light is breaking. 
Sing while the flowers are waking. 
And the stars the heavens forsaking 
For the smiles of day. 

Sing for me, baby boy, 
Sing, baby boy. 

Now the sun is in the west. 

And the moon is on the deep, 
Lean your face on mother's breast, 

Close your eyes and sink to sleep ; 
Sleep while the flowers are sleeping, 
Sleep while the stars are peeping 
And their mighty guard are keeping 
O'er the couch of day. 
Lullaby, baby by. 
Sleep, baby by. 

(To James Clark Chamberlain.) 



213 



ETERNAL YOUTH 

On the camping ground of Life, 

Kind Pilgrim, Sage and PYiend ! 
You stand with strong and youthful face 

Where two worlds meet and blend, 
Defying Time's rude hand to trace — 

On brow or cheek — a line 
That angel hands may not efface, 

Or touch with light divine. 

On the battlefield of Life, 

Bold hero of the Right ! 
There are conflicts to be fought and won 

Against the foes of Light : 
Wherever work pleads to be done, 

In every phase of Truth, 
We see you face the rising sun 

With all the zeal of youth. 

From the signal heights of Life, 

Brave Traveler, Friend and Seer! 
We hail you from a hundred lands 

And nations far and near — 
From India's shrines, and Jordan's strands, 

From islands far away, 
We lift our hearts, \ve lift our hands 

And greet our friend to-day. 

(To Dr. J. M. Peebles, on the 7.5th anniversary of his birth.) 



214 



THE SUNNY SIDE OF SEVENTY 

On the sunny side ot seventy 

We backward turn to-day, 
To view the track where vanished years 

Like milestones mark the way; 
And some are wet with bitter tears, 

And some with rapture glow, 
As on the evening side of life, 

We dream of long ago; 

Chorus. 

Long ago, long ago ; 

As on the evening side of life. 

We dream of long ago. 

O ! the sunny side of seventy 

How^ far away it seems. 
When gazing through the morning mists 

Of childhood's early dreams. 
Before the western sun has kissed 

The mountain slopes afar, 
And age appears as cold and dim 
And distant as a star — 

Chorus. 

As a star, as a star. 

And age appears as cold and dim 

And distant as m star. 

On the sunny side of seventy 

The day has just begun, — 
With faces turned to greet the light, 

Our souls reflect the sun, — 
As dews that weep and fall at night — 

In lonely shadows born — 

215 



The Sunny Side of Seventy 

Are changed to jewels pure and bright, 
Transfigured by the morn, — 

Chorus. 

By the morn, by the morn, 

Are changed to jewels pure and bright 

Transfigured by the morn. 



216 



MAYATA 

Sweet Spirit of dawn 
That arose on our way, 
To beckon us home from afar, — 
Thou hast risen and gone 
And dissolved into day 
Like the gaze of a beautiful star. 

But the stars linger near 
When the sun's golden lace 
Has concealed their soft eyes from our sight, 
And our darling is here 

Though she hides her sweet face 
On the breast of the Father of Light. 

(To James G. and Mary Bowman Clark.) 



217 



A TRANQUIL MIND 

Grant me a tranquil mind, 
Sheltered in Thee; 
Loving to all mankind, 
Firm, glad, and free: 
Free from all wearing strife, 
Which in the world is rife. 
Thus only can my life 
Thine wholly be. 

Grant me the power to stand. 
Calm, constant, wise. 
E'en though on every hand. 
Strong tempters rise ; 
Make me a frame divine, 
Wherein Thy face may shine 
Till men behold in mine 
Unclouded skies. 



218 



A FRAGMENT 

I'll sing a song of long-ago, 

So long ago that now 
I wonder not that frost and snow 

Are drifting o'er my brow ; — 
And, looking back o'er conflicts wild. 

To where the old days shine, 
I wonder at the careless child 

Whose dreams resemble mine. 



219 



AT LAST 

My soul looks up in voiceless praise 

Beside the tranquil sea, 
While visions rare of other days 

Come drifting back to me, 
Sweet echoes of the olden songs 

I sang the wide lands through, 
To lonely hearts and hungry throngs. 

Return with meaning new. 

I hear the rush of streams that rise 

In memory's mountain springs. 
And music born of earth and skies 

Around my spirit sings ; 
All sounds of discord, pain and strife 

Have rounded into tune. 
And thorns that pierced and vexed my life 

Have changed to flowers of June, 

I know not when the sun may dip 

His forehead in the foam 
And beckon to my tide-rocked ship 

To seek the Isles of Home ; 
I know not when my sails shall glide 

Behind the sunset hills, 
But peace — to manhood's prime denied — 

My being folds and thrills. 



220 



TO MY FIRST BORN 

O, NEAREST of the treasured ones 

That line my path like deathless flowers — 

Whose lives beneath the moons and suns 
Make heaven of this world of ours : 

Come linger at my side awhile 
Ere yet the old life fades away — 

And let the sweet soul of your smile 
"Good morning'' to the new life say. 

Lift up the window, let the calm 

Of dawn upon my senses fall, 
Ere Nature wakens fresh with balm 

All radiant at her lover's call. 

From yonder gold-of-Ophir rose, 

Ascending from the dying night. 
The mocking-birds' glad rapture flows 

In ripples to the morning light. 

So shall my soul on waves of song 
Float out to meet its endless youth 

And join the bright, enraptured throng 

Whose life is God, — whose thought is Truth. 



221 



GOOD NIGHT AND GOOD MORNING 

Lean upon my heart, dear friend, 

Here at last your trials end, 
Here the silver fountain glides 

Into deeper, purer tides, 
And the swift-winged spirit flies 

To its native hills and skies ; 
Round us hover forms of light. 

Gently falls the angel's warning, — 
Press my hand and say "good night," 

Ere the angels say "good morning." 



222 



THE LAST SONG 

In the Everlasting arms, 
Waiting for the perfect day, 

Free from shadows and alarms, 
On the border-land I lay. 

Never more can fear enthrall me, 
Never pain or woe befall me. 

Or the world's false pleasures call me 
From the Everlasting arms. 



223 



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